Harry Potter and the Dream Book
by HighEmpress
Summary: Complete! Harry finds himself in another world where his parents are alive. He gets a second chance to stop Voldemort's return. But everything is not as perfect as he thought it would be. Will Harry's wish for a different life backfire? Pls read!
1. Chapter 1

Set immediately after "Goblet of Fire". After the dreadful fourth year, Harry looks for a way to turn back time and change the events with in mind to stop Voldemort's return. He finds a spell that allows him to relive his fourth year and have the life he always dreamed of. Now he's back at the Quidditch World Cup, his parents are alive, and the lightning scar is gone! Someone else now is called 'the Boy Who Lived'. Will Harry's name come out of the Goblet of Fire this year?

Note: This fan fiction was written to follow the plot line of Goblet of Fire scene by scene, more or less.

Enjoy.

PART ONE

CHAPTER ONE: THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP TAKE TWO

He didn't think his stomach could take it anymore. His eyes were closed tightly and the swirling lights and stormy winds around him made him dizzy. It felt like falling into an abyss, or being pulled into it by an invisible thread. "What have I done?" he thought bitterly, remembering the spell he had just pronounced. "I should have listened to Hermione. Terrible things happen to wizards who meddle with time. _What have I done?_"

Suddenly, he heard a voice. It was not a dream. It was close, so close.

"Sweetheart, you're ready. Let go. Let go!"

He hit the ground flat on his back and opened his eyes. There she was, his mother, as real and alive as could possibly be. She was leaning over him with a smile on her face. The morning daylight was shinning on her hair. She was not a ghost. Then someone offered him a hand, a strong hand. It was his father. Harry took his father's hand. His father pulled him up from the ground and onto his feet. He couldn't move. He could hardly stand up straight. He couldn't breathe. He had forgotten how to breathe. Breathing was not important. He was standing in front of his parents, and they were smiling at him. They were alive.

"Harry, sweetheart, you look positively shaken. Are you alright, honey?" said the soft, motherly voice of Lily Potter. "Take a deep breath. It's over now."

He said nothing. His mother came closer to brush dirt off his shoulder. He could do nothing but stare at her. Her eyes, his eyes, they were the same.

"Look at you, Harry. You look petrified. I never thought… It's just a Portkey. It's quite harmless." His father let out a small laugh and carelessly dropped the Portkey, an old watch, onto the grass.

"He's never used a Portkey before, James" said Lily Potter. Then she turned her attention back to Harry, touching his cheek with her gentle hand. "When we get to the tent, you can lie down, sweetheart. You look pale. There's a little time before the match."

Then they started to walk together, all three of them. Voices could be heard ahead of them. Harry instantly realised where they were going: the Quidditch World Cup. He was back in time exactly one year ago. "It worked. I can't believe it worked", he kept saying over and over in his head. "It was just a stupid book and a stupid incantation, but it worked. I came back in time, exactly one year back. I've brought back my parents." Dumbledore had been wrong. There was a spell that could bring back the dead.

His father placed an arm over his shoulder. His mother laid a hand on his head, placing a strand of loose hair behind his ear. The thought hit him like a wave of happiness such as he had never felt before. "This is my happiest memory now." At that precise moment, he couldn't imagine how changing a few events in time could be such an awful thing.

Harry Potter was entirely indifferent to the extraordinary setting of the Quidditch World Cup. He had seen it before. The thousands of tents, the families of wizards, the familiar faces of Hogwarts students, the euphoria of the upcoming match Ireland versus Bulgaria, none of that impressed him much. He finally felt that things were exactly as they ought to be. But then, that had been exactly the point of the spell he had used.

The book had said on the cover: "Turn back time. Live one year exactly as you wish it." He had wished to stop Voldemort's return, but then he had found that the book allowed to change some aspects of one's life at will. And so he had wished for everything he had ever wanted: his parents, a normal life, the chance to undo the outcome of what happened in the cemetery. Thus, so far, everything was exactly as it should be, and he was glad with the result.

They reached his parent's tent after a long and enjoyable walk across the campsite. The tent was of a golden color and had a brick red chimney on the side. It looked like the best tent around, spotless and shinning. The inside reminded him of the Gryffindor Common Room. It was warm and cozy with a huge fireplace and chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. His bedroom, separated from the rest of the tent by a thick red velvet curtain, was bigger than any bedroom he had ever seen, least of all being allowed to sleep in. Everything was gold and red, from the carpet to the comforter on his bed which had a golden phoenix on it. There was a huge painting of a sleeping lion on the right side of the bed. The lion was snoring. There was a poster of the Weird Sisters besides it. Bits of parchment lay here and there on the dresser and bedside table on the left; the tightly scribbled letters looked like his handwriting. He could hear his parents talking happily about the match. Like everyone else, they seemed to support Ireland, but his father clearly thought that the seeker Viktor Krum from Bulgaria was worth a few praises.

His mind racing with the idea of where he was and who he was with, Harry lurched himself on the bed and laid his head on the pillow, staring at the ceiling, listening to the voices of his parents and appreciating every word spoken. He thought that if he didn't stop shaking anytime soon, he was sure to start crying. Rapidly, he was on his feet again, looking around at his new life, thinking that he ought to get accustomed to his new surroundings. He started to rummage through his personal things, but soon he realised that he felt no real connection to anything in the room except the Gryffindor colors.

In the first drawer of his dresser, he found what he was looking for: a mirror. Slowly, he lifted his fringe and moved the mirror closer to his face. "It's gone", he thought. The knot in his stomach seemed to tighten. "I don't have a scar anymore."

"I'm sure everything is exactly as it should be, Harry."

Startled, Harry wheeled around, putting the mirror back in the drawer as fast as he could. Another familiar face was grinning at him.

"Sirius!"

This was really a different Sirius than the one he had seen in the fire crate of the Gryffindor Common Room. He was well dressed and looked full of life. His face was slightly tanned, his hair black as ever but clean. His eyes were not sunken or dark, but energetic and sparkling.

"Well don't just stand there! Will you give your godfather a hug?"

Sirius didn't really hug him. He ruffled Harry's hair. He measured to see how much Harry had grown since the last time they had seen each other. Harry could remember when and where their last encounter had been, but he was sure that Sirius' memories of that moment were different. All Harry could do presently was nod and smile.

"You look okay now" said Sirius when he had made sure that Harry's hair was everywhere else but tucked behind his ears. "Come on, I'll introduce you."

They walked into the dining room area where his parents were sitting comfortably at a wooden table, drinking what looked like Butterbeer. There was someone else sitting with them. The young woman looked like she could be Fleur Delacour's older sister. Harry felt himself blush slightly.

"You must be 'Arry", she said with an unmistakable French accent.

Sirius went behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"Harry, this is Audrey Larochelle. We met in France. Audrey and I decided to spend the remaining of the summer with you and your parents."

"Nice to meet you", said Harry, shaking her hand. Sirius was beaming at him, but it seemed to Harry that he saw his father snort slightly.

"I 'ave 'eard good comments about 'Ogwarts. Do you like your school?"

"Yeah, it's great", said Harry vaguely.

He could see that Sirius could not take his eyes off her. She was really beautiful. Her hair was blond with curls down to her back. She had blue eyes and her cheeks were slightly pink. She wore fashionably thorn jeans, a fluffy white woollen sweater and pink nail polish. Harry thought that she looked more Muggle than witch. And she obviously was a fair few years younger than Sirius.

"Did you go to Beaubatons?" he asked innocently. "I hear it's really amazing", he added, remembering a few of Fleur's comments about the Hogwarts Great Hall being nothing compared to the Beaubatons Great Hall.

"Yes!" she answered, almost jumping at the edge of her seat. "Yes! We 'ad beautiful uniforms. 'Ogwarts uniforms are too black. Sometimes I wish I could go back to school just to wear zat uniform again."

There was an awkward silence. Harry saw his parents exchange a quick glance.

"Well, shall we continue this conversation on our way to the match?" James offered, rising to his feet.

All five of them set out for the stadium among the effervescent crowd and with no other care in the world than supporting the Irish Quidditch team.

Harry's father bought omniculars for everyone. They had very good seats. But since he knew how the match was going to end, Harry used the omniculars to try and find sign of Ron or Hermione among the top boxes. He clearly saw the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, and also the head of the Department of Magical Cooperation, Bartemius Crouch, but after a few minutes of search there was still no sign of Ron or Hermione. From what he remembered, Ron and his family were too far from where he stood now. It was highly unlikely that he would be able to spot them even with the omniculars.

"Come on, Harry!" said his father, speaking loudly through the cheering crowd. "I know that you're not very found of Quidditch, but you have to admit this is exiting."

Harry was momentarily set back. "Not very found of Quidditch?" he thought. "How can I _not_ be very found of Quidditch?"

He felt someone lean closer to his ear. It was Sirius.

"I understand how you feel, Harry" he said so that only Harry could hear. "Have you found her yet?"

"Who?"

But then Krum spotted the snitch and the crowd went wild, and Sirius did not answer the question.

The cheers, the noise and the carelessness continued well into the evening after the match. Every person of importance at the World Cup, it seemed to Harry, came by the Potter's tent just to say hello to James and Lily or to Sirius. Harry was particularly glad when he saw Arthur Weasley walk in, but Ron's dad took no special notice of Harry and he was soon on his way. Immediately after Mr Weasley had left, someone else walked in who Harry had not expected.

"Harry!" said the cheerful voice of Neville Longbottom. "You should have told me you decided to come to the match after all, mate. We could have watched it together. Well, never mind now. You have to admit it was awesome. I mean, even for you. Didn't I tell you so?"

Neville kept poking him on the shoulder with his fist. He had a large grin on his face. He looked absolutely thrilled that Harry was there, but Harry was not sure why. He couldn't remember ever seeing Neville so enthusiastic about anything, least of all Quidditch.

"I guess you were right, Neville", he said, fighting back another of Neville's friendly punches.

"_Neville_? Harry, my mom calls me _Neville_."

At that moment, Neville's parents walked in and Harry's stomach tightened again.

They looked like the most loving, lively people Harry had never seen. They shook hands with Harry's parents, made a comment about something, and then there was laughter all around the tent. Neville's mom even made a comment in French at which Audrey Larochelle giggled happily, then wheeled around, threw her arms around Sirius' neck and kissed him passionately. Harry immediately realised that Neville, the new Neville that now stood in front of him, was a direct result of being brought up by these people. He was not the shy, unimposing, withdrawn boy anymore.

Then the sight of someone else caught Harry's eyes. It was a young girl, probably of Ginny's age or younger. She had dark brown wavy hair, the same color as Neville, falling over her eyes and just below the shoulders. She was wearing a green Ireland scarf. She came over to where Harry and Neville stood.

"Hi, Harry. Don't let Neville _brainwash_ you. Quidditch is just a stupid sport. It doesn't involve any real knowledge of proper magic. If you ask me, duelling is much more interesting as a sport. It's a lot more challenging, don't you agree?"

"Err," said Harry. He was unwilling to argue with the girl.

"No wonder you ended up in Ravenclaw, El" Neville said. He sounded very annoyed by her.

"Eleanor, dear, come over here. Audrey wants to take a better look at you," called Mrs Longbottom.

Harry glanced at the young girl and then back at Neville. The resemblance was unmistakable. "Eleanor", thought Harry. "Neville has a sister named Eleanor and she is in Ravenclaw. I have to remember that." He also thought about Neville's parents, about how they had been tortured to insanity by Death Eaters. They're life had changed somehow. They were happy now. They had had another child after Neville. Harry had a family now, and so did Neville. He was more and more convinced that the spell had worked wonderfully. It was not a bad thing at all to wish for a perfect life.

Lily Potter pulled out some sandwiches and everyone tucked in at the wooden table for an evening snack. What followed was a long hour of laughter and Butterbeer. Harry quickly learned that Neville was mostly called Nev, and that he and his sister were disagreeing on everything, which caused a lot of bickering at the table. Harry thought it was rather enjoyable to see Neville win at almost every argument. But most of all, he was glad that his spell had worked for Neville as well. He seemed so relaxed and happy.

They were well into their second helping of dessert when the beginning of the disturbance was heard. Everyone in the tent stopped talking at once to listen to what the new sounds were about. The noises rapidly turned into screams and the smell of smoke. James, Sirius and Frank Longbottom stood up, wands at the ready.

"Lily", James called out, "get the children to the Portkey. Hurry!"

Harry's mind was racing with the memories of the Death Eaters at the World Cup and the Dark Mark rising in the night sky. Barty Crouch Junior had conjured it. It was happening again.

He had no time to think more about it. His mother had ceased his arm tightly; she was not going to let him out of her sight. Neville's mother was also grasping at Neville and Eleanor with both hands. Audrey looked very scared. She was holding her wand up in front of her, but it was shaking so much that Harry thought no spell would come out of it if it properly.

They ran among the panic-stricken crowd. All the while, Harry kept his eyes on the sky, wondering when it would appear, the Dark Mark.

They made it into the woods, all six of them, with Audrey trailing behind as her shoes were not made for running. The screaming was more scattered now as people were hiding from the roaring Death Eaters. The voices soon died out and all became quiet. Harry thought he saw a glimpse of red hair. Was it Ron and Ginny and the twins?

"You know what they want, don't you?" said Neville's mother to Lily, keeping her voice down. She looked pale and trembling.

Lily let go of Harry's forearm and placed a comforting hand on the other woman's shoulder.

"They will not touch him. I will not allow it. Neville is safe with us", she said reassuringly.

Harry looked over at Neville who was bent down, panting slightly from the running. It didn't seem a surprise to anyone that his mother thought that the Death Eaters were after Neville. But of all the people, Harry couldn't grasp why. Then he saw it. Just like it had been on his forehead, covered by his fringe, there was the lightning scar, a dark shade of pink, on Neville Longbottom's forehead, hidden under the thick brown curls. "This means that Voldemort tried to kill Neville instead of me," thought Harry. He could remember Hagrid's words spoken on his first year at Hogwarts: "A mark like that can only come from a curse, a terrible curse."

Someone shrieked. All of them looked up. The sky was illuminated in green. The Dark Mark had been cast. Harry stared at Neville, wondering what his school friend was feeling at the moment. Was the scar burning? Yet Neville's face did not twist in pain, and his hand did not reach to his forehead in reaction to a burning sensation. Neville had the scar, but it wasn't him who felt the sudden throbbing on his forehead.

Harry was caught unawares by the pain that hit him and slightly lost his balance. Alarmed by the renewed screaming and the Dark Mark, his mother grabbed his arm and they started to move deeper into the woods. Lily Potter did not notice that her son was clutching his head with his free hand. The two older women were both looking out for Neville.

"This isn't real", thought Harry bitterly, trying to convince himself. "This isn't happening again."

Yet another voice in his head was saying: "This is what you asked for. It needs to happen again if you want to change what happens afterwards."

Moments later, James and Frank Longbottom appeared carrying an old boot. It was a Portkey. Sirius came running behind them. When Audrey saw him, she began to sob uncontrollably. Harry glanced at the Dark Mark once again before touching the Portkey. The truth was beginning to sink in: he was going to live through the foreboding events leading to Voldemort's return all over again, and the Dark Mark was just the beginning. And the worst part of it was that he had _wished_ for it.


	2. Chapter 2

PART ONE

CHAPTER TWO: YEAR FOUR BEGINS

A few days later, he was standing on Platform Nine and Three Quarters with his trunk and fourth year books. His wand was the same one he always carried because he had performed the time-turning spell with it. However, his owl was a black and brown male named Paris. It was a haughty animal that kept biting the bars of its cage and Harry's fingers whenever it could. As for the time he had spent in his parent's house, Harry swore that it would remain forever one of his best memories.

Although the events at the Quidditch World Cup had disturbed him, he was sure that his parents were taking it even more seriously than he was. In a way, he was glad to see that they cared so much for him, yet on the other hand he was relieved that he was going back at Hogwarts where his mother would not be following him in every room.

"Well, give me a hug and go get a seat", said his mother.

She placed her arms around him into a motherly embrace and he couldn't help but wiggle out of her grasp, slightly embarrassed.

"Bye, mom", he said awkwardly.

"Do mind your temper on the train, Harry", said his father. "Stay away from Malfoy and you won't be tempted to pick up a fight again. I'll see you at school."

Harry's mother gave her son a kiss on both cheeks. Harry was climbing the first steps to get on the train when his father's last comment came back to him: "I'll see you at school". Then his thoughts dwelled on the upcoming Triwizard Tournament.

From the whispers and concealment of his parents in the last few days, he had gathered that the Triwizard Tournament was going to be repeated, for him anyway. It was happening at Hogwarts this year as though it had never happened before. Probably, his parents had thought it would make a great surprise if Harry learned about it on the first day back like the other students. They couldn't know how the thought of anything relating to the Triwizard Tournament made him extremely uneasy.

Harry was vaguely wondering what part his father would be playing in the Triwizard Tournament when he heard his name being shouted.

"Harry! Hi, Harry!" someone called out as Harry was walking down the narrow corridor of the Hogwarts Express. It was Neville's sister. "How about it, huh? The Dark Mark at the World Cup? Talk about a turn of events! Who do you think conjured it?"

She was following him. Harry was actively searching for a sign of Ron or Hermione. He had been more and more anxious for a sight of them, even just a glance. He had begun to think that maybe they weren't friends in his new life and that thought had occupied him even more than the Dark Mark or the burning on his forehead.

"I personally don't trust Lucius Malfoy. Do you think that he was among the Death Eaters? I am sure that we could find out from Crabbe and Goyle. We should work out a plan to fool them into telling us."

Harry was suddenly very glad that Eleanor Longbottom was in Ravenclaw. He could now fully understand the annoyed look on Neville's face that evening at the World Cup. He was only hoping that Eleanor wasn't _really_ his friend.

He was about to turn around and tell Eleanor to stop following him when he saw a familiar red head coming out of a compartment just behind Eleanor.

"El, why don't you give Harry a break?"

It was Ginny. She had walked out of the compartment and was now staring at Neville's sister with her arms crossed. Eleanor's eyes darted to Ginny. She began to scrutinise her from head to toe. Ginny was wearing a Weasley jumper dark purple and brown, with a huge G in the front. She was slightly taller than Eleanor, and she definitely looked older. But most of all, she did not seem intimidated by the young Miss Longbottom.

"G for Ginny. Very witty. Had a good summer?" Eleanor asked, her tone clearly indicating that she couldn't care less.

"I'd tell you all about it, El, if I thought that you were genuinely interested."

Harry smiled. He had not seen Eleanor Longbottom so put out since the Death Eaters had scared all the wit out of her. He was happy that someone else besides Neville thought she was extremely irksome.

"Come on, Harry", said Ginny. Eleanor was still speechless. "I saved you a seat."

Harry walked into the compartment with Ginny Weasley and almost let out a cry of surprise. Ron was there, rummaging through what looked like Ginny's bag.

"Hi there, mate", said Ron, glancing rapidly at Harry.

Ron pulled out some sandwiches out of Ginny's bag and ate one immediately.

"Thanks, Gin. I'm starving. Sure you don't want any?"

"No, it's okay. Nev always has too much snacks and candies and stuff and he shares with Harry and me."

Ginny started to put away her bag. Ron was already in the doorway.

"I'm going to sit with Seamus and Dean. See you at school, Harry."

And Ron left. Harry could hardly believe it. Ron was his best friend. Now he was barely noticing him. He stared at the hallway, wondering if he should follow Ron.

"Harry, what are you doing?"

He looked back at the compartment. Ginny was staring at him with an inquiring look on her face. He thought that maybe it would look weird if he did something unexpected like following Ron although he had not been invited. More or less reluctantly, he went back into the compartment and sat down on the seat in front of Ginny.

"Harry, you have a funny look. What's going on?"

He couldn't find a reply soon enough for Ginny, it seemed. When he did not answer, she quickly got up to close the sliding door.

"Did you have another dream?" she asked quietly, now sitting on the edge of her seat, looking very concerned.

Harry was at a complete loss. Ginny was just staring at him, waiting for an answer.

"Err… no… I… I was just…"

"Shush. Nev is coming."

Exactly then, Neville opened the sliding door. He had a large grin on his face. He wore a black leather coat that Harry thought looked really, really cool. There was no other word for it. Trevor the tadpole was sitting comfortably on Neville's shoulder. Even the toad had a self-satisfied air. Neville had his wand out and looked particularly happy about something.

"You wouldn't believe what that Slytherin girl said about Eleanor, but I got her back really good," he said, putting the toad back in its box. "Well, Fred and George helped a bit. I'm getting the hang of that bogey curse." He stuffed his wand into the back pockets of his jeans and sat down besides Harry.

Ginny laughed. The look of concern the she had worn seconds ago was entirely gone. "I don't think Professor Flickwick will grade you for a bogey curse, but it doesn't mean it's not useful," she said, a large smile on her face.

"Do any of you have any idea what's happening at Hogwarts this year? Everyone is going on about it. No one knows what it is, but I bet it's something special."

"My dad says the Ministry wants to make up for their poor performance at the World Cup. Security was of course a disaster. Think of all the Death Eaters that walked free."

Neville and Ginny talked eagerly about the events at the World Cup, making their assessment of what had really happened and who had been involved. Harry joined in the conversation, relating the part of the story that he had witnessed. However, he made a point of avoiding a discussion that would lead to arising suspicions. There was a lot still that he did not know about this new reality, and he didn't want anyone to believe that he did not belong here.

When it became dark outside, Neville left the compartment to go and get changed. They were arriving soon. Ginny immediately came to sit besides Harry, leaning closer to him so that she could whisper. This made Harry uncomfortable and he shifted on his seat, trying to put some distance between them. Ginny didn't seem to notice.

"Harry, the Dark Mark, what was it like to you? Did you feel any pain?"

"What? No. Err. I was with my mom and Neville, I mean Nev," he said quickly. He was trying to divert the conversation towards another topic.

"Yeah, I know that. Nev clearly didn't feel a thing. It's you I'm worrying about. Everything that relates to You-Know-Who makes you hurt and I don't like it."

Harry got up. It felt like someone had invaded his privacy. He couldn't figure out how Ginny Weasley would know about these things or why she appeared to care so much. He had only ever told Ron and Hermione because they were his friends and they had been through a lot together since their first year. Clearly, this conversation was happening with the wrong person. He should be sitting with Ron.

"I'm fine", he managed to say, feeling somewhat awkward. A new idea was starting to fill in: was he _dating_ Ginny? He certainly wouldn't. That would be ridiculous. She was Ron's sister!

Ginny did not seem convinced at all with his last statement. She crossed her arms and looked up at him, almost accusingly.

"You're _fine_. Very well then. Have it your way", she said sourly. "I'm only trying to help." She really sounded upset that he wasn't sharing this information with her. "Have you talked to your father about it yet?" she asked. There was frustration in her voice.

"About what?" snapped Harry. He was exasperated. He couldn't believe that he was having this conversation with Ginny, his best friend's little sister.

"About the dream!" she replied angrily. "You had a dream about You-Know-Who that was so real that it made you sick. You ought to tell your father!"

"I don't tell my father everything!"

"You don't have to tell me that, Harry! But this goes over and beyond what you and your father don't agree on. This might help your parents find You-Know-Who's whereabouts."

Harry thought for a moment. He had never had a father or mother that he could talk to. Was it really the sort of thing that his father would want to know about? His parents were Aurors after all. Yet there was not much that he could tell them without arising suspicions. They could discover that he had changed the timeline. He would have to explain how he knew about events that have not yet happened. It was true that his father and he had not had any profound conversation except the odd comment here and there. Mostly, he had talked to his mother so far. But what could he tell his father? He couldn't let anyone know that he had meddled with time.

Ginny was still staring at him, but she seemed less angry.

"Harry, you don't have to tell your father everything, but sooner or later you will have to go to him. He can help you, you know. He's a very good wizard. I'm sure he'll have an explanation for this, or at least something to say."

Harry sat besides the window, not too close to Ginny. This year was beginning just like the last, after all. It had felt like a dream at first, a perfect, beautiful dream, but now the real events were taking place for the second time around. He had hoped to be able to stop Voldemort's return. Now he would have to figure out how to do it. He was not sure yet who he could get involved in the process. It didn't seem like Ron was hanging out with him, and he had not seen Hermione so far. Perhaps he was into this alone.

"Maybe he's not the greatest dad," said Ginny, hopefully, seeing how thoughtful he had become, "but he's the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher that Hogwarts has ever seen."

The first thing that Harry noticed when he walked in the Hogwarts Great Hall was his father at the staff table talking to Dumbledore. They looked very well acquainted and seemed to be discussing something important. "Probably some details about the tournament", thought Harry. Neither Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody nor Bartemius Crouch was accounted for. Snape looked in a fowl mood and kept throwing glances at James Potter, and Hagrid did not wave at Harry but was having an energetic conversation with Professor Sprout.

Neville, _Nev_, was clearly the star of the Gryffindor table. As soon as he walked in, everyone started to wave at him and shout various greetings. Harry was glad that Neville chose to settle with the other fourth years because that gave him the opportunity to sit besides Ron. He had decided that he would make every effort to be Ron's best friend again.

He was about to sit down between Neville and Ginny when something hit him behind the neck, something like a small pebble. At once he turned around to see Malfoy laugh maliciously, but a glance at the staff table was enough to remind him that he couldn't step up to Malfoy at this time.

"What's the matter, Potter? Gone soft this summer?" yelled Malfoy from over at the Slytherin table. "You and your girlfriend have been kissy-kissy on the train?"

The other Slytherins answered in laughter.

"That is _so_ immature," someone was sneering a few paces ahead of the Slytherins.

It was Hermione. She was leading a group of girls towards where the other Gryffindor fourth years were sitting. Actually, Harry noticed, it was probably the whole group of Gryffindor girls that she was leading. They were all talking happily, and Hermione was at the center of them, giggling and laughing nervously as they passed by Neville. There was something different about her hair, Harry also realised. Her curls were shinny and she had pinned it up just enough that some tresses were cascading on her shoulders. There was glitter on her lips as well.

Harry hadn't realised that he was staring at Hermione. One of the girls, Pavarti, whispered something in Hermione's ear and she went slightly pink. Then, looking quite sure of her, Hermione came over to where Harry was.

"Hi, Harry. I heard that you went to the Quidditch World Cup after all. Did you enjoy it?"

"Yeah", said Harry, finally happy to be talking to Hermione. "Quidditch isn't all that bad, honestly."

But Hermione wasn't listening to him. She was eying Ron, and Ron was staring back at her. Both of them had a look of surprise on their faces. And Ron was _blushing_.

"Hi, Ron" said Hermione timidly, her haughty expression completely gone. She then turned and hurried off, going back to the group of girls from which instant giggles were heard.

Harry turned back to Ron. Ron was trying to look casual, ignoring the fact that his cheeks had gone suddenly flaming red. Ginny nudged Harry furtively.

"Ron fancies Hermione Granger since the end of last year. I think he likes the combination of pretty and smart. She likes him too, but she's too proud to admit it. Who would have believed it, huh? Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger."

Moments later, the students from Beaubatons and Durmstrang were arriving. Harry pretended to be really impressed but he was really on the watch. Dumbledore announced the Triwizard Tournament and the great Hall exploded with cheers. Harry was only half listening; the other part of his brain was busy with registering the differences from the last time these events had taken place. The most important difference being that there was no mention of an age limit.

"An age limit? Are you _mental_?" cried out Fred and George Weasley together when Harry voiced out his concern to Ginny.

"What's to stop a first year from being selected, then? People die in this tournament," argued Harry.

He didn't want to sound gloomy or down-to-earth, but he was wondering why the Ministry had not decided to impose an age limit this time.

"Dumbledore said that the Goblet of Fire is an impartial judge. Perhaps it means that the Goblet wouldn't select someone who isn't up to it. Does that make sense?"

Ginny's response seemed logical enough to close the discussion. By the following morning, everyone was talking about putting their name in, the logic behind this being that the Goblet would choose the champion according to skills and magical talents; therefore, there was no problem with giving it many names to choose from. The champion would be the only student who was really up to it. Many people were going to Neville to ask him whether or not they should put their name in.

By the first day of class, Harry had observed that Neville was a reference point for everyone except the Slytherins. Neville seemed notorious for performing advanced spells. Harry had not seen yet any proof that _Nev_ was indeed a powerful wizard. This seemed somewhat farfetched considering the shy, clumsy Neville Longbottom that he had always known.


	3. Chapter 3

PART ONE

CHAPTER THREE: DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS

When he walked in the Defence Against the Dark Arts class, his impression was that it looked a lot like the classroom of his third year with Professor Lupin. Hence, it was exactly as a Defence Against the Dark Arts should be.

The desks had been pushed against the wall for the first class. A few objects lay in the middle of the room. Some of them he recognised; some others he was not so familiar with. There was a Foe glass, a couple of other dark detectors that he had seen in Moody's office, some very big spiders in a locked cage (Ron gave a sudden shudder), glass bowls of many sizes filled with various insects, and a cupboard that kept shaking violently as students were poring in the classroom.

"Good morning, class", said James Potter.

He was wearing black from head to toe and a robe that was a lot like Snape's cloak, with the only difference that James looked much more casual in it. His entire outfit was also including messed up hair which looked a lot like Harry's, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

"Please put all your books away and take your wands out, everyone. We will do a bit of reviewing today," he said happily.

Whispers of excitement and apprehension started to rise. Hermione did not seem exasperated by the fact that they would not be putting their noses in books for this class. Instead, she looked very full of herself, surrounded still as she was by the same group of girls, and she was eyeing the professor with great interest. Harry had not seen Hermione looking at anyone like this since Gilderoy Lockhart had been their teacher.

Suddenly, Harry heard a hissing sound. This time, it wasn't Hermione. It was hushed and eerie like a murmur.

"Practisss time. Bring usss out of the bowlsss. Bring usss out!"

Harry wheeled around, looking for the source of the voice. He had not heard anything like it since the Chamber of Secrets had been opened in his second year.

He spotted the bowls in question along the wall and under a long table in the shades.

"Snakes," thought Harry. He tried to get a closer look but Hermione's group of giggling girls was blocking the way and his father had begun his instructions.

"In the spirit of the Triwizard Tournament", said James Potter, "I've put together three tasks for you to perform. You will all be graded on how well you succeed. In exactly one hour, we will have a champion of the class."

There were cheers from the students. Harry distinctively heard Ron say "Wicked!" Apparently, Harry's dad was a cool teacher.

"Naturally, I would expect the student who becomes class champion to put forth his or her name in the Goblet of Fire. _But_, the decision is of course a personal one for everyone who wishes to enter the tournament. I have to admit that historically the champion has always been either a sixth or seventh year student." He was staring at each and everyone of his student with great admiration and pride. "But this year might be an exception."

Everyone clapped really hard at that last comment. Harry thought that this class must be really advanced or his father wouldn't show so much content towards his students. Harry did not want to disappoint his father, of course. However, his only decent Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher had been Professor Lupin, and that was one out of three years of material to cover.

"You can begin with any task you desire, but you must do all three. Please choose a partner to keep each other's scores."

Harry stepped towards Ron, hoping that they could team up, but Neville was already pulling him over to the set up of the first task.

In one corner of the class, there was a trunk lying on the floor and besides was a table with different bowls of insects. The instructions said: "Find the key that opens the lock on the trunk. The selection of keys is in the glass bowls. You can pick a key from any bowl, but you only get one try to open the lock. Careful! The creatures in the bowls are either poisonous or flesh-eating."

"You have to pick the right key," concluded Neville. "Knowing your dad, it's probably in the bowl with the most disgusting things in it."

Harry was not looking at the bowls but at the lock. It was an old square thing and the hole was very big. He figured that the key had to be old-fashioned and enormous, thus easy to spot inside the small bowls. This was reminding his of the time he, Ron and Hermione had gone down the trapdoor to save the Philosopher's Stone. He quickly glanced at Ron. Ron was looking at the bowl full of spiders, shuddering and muttering to himself. In the meantime, Dean had put his hand in a bowl of slimy slugs. His hand was now covered in pustules, but he had the key and it was an old-fashioned one. However, it wasn't the right one; it was too small.

"At least we know that the key is not in this bowl," said Ron, looking apprehensively at Dean's hand.

"Have I mentioned that the keys change bowls once someone has tried out a wrong one?" said Harry's dad, a malicious smile on his face.

"But sir", said Hermione, "how are we supposed to pick the right one if they keep changing bowls? We can hardly see what's at the bottom with all these… _things_." She was eyeing the slugs with great discuss.

"There must be a trick," whispered Harry to Neville.

"Well, I'm going to see what the other tasks are like," replied Neville.

Harry followed him. The second task was the cupboard. It didn't take long for Harry to realise that the creature inside it was a Boggart. Pavarti Patil was looking at a very large shark head and saying "Ridikkulus!" with as much strength as she could. It wasn't enough. The Boggart was advancing on her.

Harry motioned towards the creature instinctively but his father was quicker. James Potter placed himself in front of the Boggart, pushing back Harry and Pavarti with his free hand as he did so. Instantly, the Boggart assumed the form of a werewolf. Harry was stunned. He could not imagine his father being afraid of werewolves considering that his friend Remus Lupin was one. Yet there it was. Harry's father sent the Boggart back in the cupboard with a shift movement of his wand.

"Who's next?" said James. "Nev?"

But Neville was already moving to the other task. It was where all the mirrors and dark detectors were cluttered up. The instructions said: "Master your foe."

Harry moved closer to the Foe glass, but Neville would not go a step further.

"My dad says that I ought to stay away from Foe glasses," said Neville thoughtfully and quietly so that only Harry could hear. "I might see You-Know-Who in it because he tried to kill me when I was a baby. Do you reckon that's true?"

Harry didn't know what to reply. For his part, the Foe glass was only showing green smokes and shadowy forms.

"Master your foe," read Harry out loud. "It's a riddle. The foe depends on the person that is looking."

Harry looked around. Lavender Brown was bent over a rotating glass ball, a dark detector that Harry had seen in Dumbledore's office. A tear was rolling down her face. "Oh, no!" she said. "It's the grim! I'm doomed!" And she buried her face on Hermione's shoulder.

"Of course," thought Harry as an idea hit him. "It's _brilliant_!"

"I don't think Lavender is enjoying this," Neville murmured, sounding concerned.

"Neville", said Harry, "what are you afraid of?"

"What?"

Harry pulled Neville apart from the rest of the other students.

"The tasks are designed to force us to face our fears: the disgusting insects, the Boggart, the foes. It all fits! If you succeed at the first two tasks, then the Foe glass will show no enemies because you will have mastered your foes. Get it?"

Harry was talking very fast and very excitedly, but low enough so that only Neville would hear.

"Yeah, I get it. It makes sense. This is the type of exercise your dad would put up," agreed Neville. "I don't know why you're so happy, though. I still don't like lightning and I'm not looking forward to being struck by it when the cupboard opens."

Harry was reminded of the very shy, very nervous Neville who had been afraid of Severus Snape. That Neville had helped him to find Gillyweed on the second Triwizard task. Harry wasn't sure that he had paid him back properly. This seemed like the perfect opportunity.

"There's nothing to fear but fear itself," Harry muttered to Neville's ear.

"Huh?"

But Harry was already dragging Neville towards the huge trunk and the many disgusting insects.

"Neville, it's all about not being afraid. What are most disgusting things like spiders and slugs usually afraid of?"

"Err. Humans? Magic?" said Neville, puzzled. "And you called me _Neville_ again, Harry," he added on questioningly. "That's just weird…"

"Light!" Harry almost cried out loud. "Do you think that if the insects would step out of the bowls we could get the key that we need?"

Neville's face became illuminated in a large smile. "Harry! This might work!"

"Let's try it out, then."

Neville said "Lumos!" and the tip of his wand lit up in a glowing sliver light. Harry readied his hand to dig in the bowls. As soon as Neville's wand tip entered the first bowl, the spiders inside it stepped aside to escape the bright light. Some of the spiders even stepped out, crawling on the table and causing hysterical screams from a few girls. Harry looked at the key at the bottom of the bowl. It looked too small.

"Not this one. Next bowl, Neville."

The others were looking at them in wonder as they did every single bowl. There didn't seem to be a key big enough, however, even when they had gone through all the bowls. Neville seemed quite put out by this.

"Well, it was a good idea," he said, wiping some green slime from his wand.

Harry was thinking. There had to be another trick. The key must be hidden somehow.

He pointed at one bowl and said quietly "Reveal your secret" as Snape had done to examine the Marauder's Map, but there was no result. Harry wasn't sure that it was a real spell, but he was running out of ideas.

Neville decided to imitate him and did the same thing for the second bowl, and something happened. One of the insects, a big spider, started to glow in an orange light.

"That's one big spider," said Neville. "Why is it glowing?"

"Because it's not a spider!" replied Harry, realising in a flash that the spell had worked after all and what it implied. He moved in closer to Neville. "Don't you see? He's transfigured the key! All we've got to do is put an end to the charm."

"How?" asked Neville.

Harry directed his wand to the glowing spider and Neville imitated him.

"_Finite incantatem_!" said Harry.

The spider made a funny bubbling sound and turned into a key. The piece of metal fell at the bottom of the bowl with a clunk. Harry used the Lumos charm and Neville was able to cease the key. Harry was quite proud of his performance so far. When he looked around, however, he realised that the other students were congratulating Neville. Then again, he remembered, he had intended to help Neville in the first place. He should have expected this.

"Well done, Nev. Well done!" said Harry's dad.

"Go on, Nev," said Ron enthusiastically. "Try it in the lock."

But the key did not fit. Neville looked at it from all angles, and then he handed it back to Harry.

"It was a good show, Harry", he said sympathetically, "but the key's too small."

Harry was examining the key and the lock. The key was the right shape. Then the solution hit him.

He pointed his wand at the key and said: "_Ingorgio_!"

The key became one size bigger. It was now a perfect fit for the lock. Harry unlocked the trunk and there was a thunder of applause from the surrounding crowd.

"That was awesome, Harry!" said Neville.

But Harry was already moving on to the second task and leading Neville to the cupboard. He still had in mind to repay his friend for the help at the Triwizard Tournament; therefore, he did not want to take all the credit for their performance in the first task.

"Come on, Neville. You can do the Boggart."

Neville did not seem so sure, but he had time to gather himself because it was Hermione's turn to face the Boggart. She was pointing her wand at the cupboard very firmly. Then the ground seemed to shake from right under their feet; Harry could have sworn it. Suddenly, the cupboard burst opened and a huge mountain troll came out of it. It was so enormous that the side of the cupboard had split opened. Hermione let out a feeble yelp and the other girls that were standing close behind her went very pale all of the sudden. Clearly, Hermione had not expected her Boggart to take the size of a troll as well as the shape.

Harry, Neville, Ron, Dean and Seamus thought it rather funny to watch the group of girls speechless (for once) as the troll was advancing on Hermione. But the fun only lasted a minute, because the next moment, Hermione had fallen on her back and the troll was now menacingly lifting its huge foot and was about to crush her.

Without a moment's hesitation, Harry hurried forward and placed himself between Hermione and the troll. The result was of course that the troll disappeared and it became instead a tall and hooded Dementor. Now the girls were screaming, but Harry didn't hear. The voices around him sounded distant and faint. The cold was sweeping over him like a wave. The Dementor was too close. It was happening too fast. He wasn't ready. He couldn't think. The screams were filling his brain now. They were _his_ screams of pain. A cruel voice was laughing and yelling "_Crucio_!". Harry closed his eyes tight. There was nothing he could have done to stop Voldemort torturing him. He felt the Dementor press both its hands on his neck, pulling him closer to its ugly mouth, leaning in for the kiss.

"It's not a real Dementor," he thought. But he couldn't find anything funny to make the Ridikkulus charm work.

He heard Voldemort's voice whisper to him: "I'm going to kill you, Harry Potter." Then there was another scream. It was himself. He was screaming in agony and Voldemort was laughing. It was a cold, pitiless laughter. "Don't you turn your back on me, Harry Potter! I want to see the light leave your eyes!" yelled the voice of Voldemort again. Harry was terrified. He couldn't move. He was reliving the night in the graveyard. That horrible night. Cedric had died, and his parents…

But his parents were not dead. Not anymore. Harry suddenly saw their faces in his mind's eyes. They were not ghosts or smoke-like. They were _real_.

"_Expecto patronum_!" he cried as loudly as he could.

The wand in his hand was pointing directly at the Dementor's belly. The Dementor was so close that the wand was actually touching it. Harry saw the string of silvery smoke emerge out of the Dementor's back. The creature was pushed backwards by the strength of the spell and landed on the cupboard which crashed into pieces.

Silver-white light was bathing the entire classroom. Harry fell to his knees but still held the wand upwards at the Dementor, in case it tried to approach him again. The light was decreasing steadily now.

The black hooded monster turned into many frightening things, including a spider and a werewolf, and then it leaned on its side and stopped altogether, a mixture of brown fur, black feathers and red slime lying in the wreckage. The Boggart was dead.

Harry was not surprised that his dad immediately called the end of the class, and declared that Neville Longbottom was the class champion. Everyone was soon congratulating Neville on his performance with the key and the insects, and the dead Boggart was more or less forgotten. Harry saw his dad write a name on a bit of parchment and stuff it in Neville's hand.

"There you go, Neville. Now go and put it in the Goblet of Fire. Good luck!"

Neville was glancing back at Harry as the other Gryffindor were pushing him hurriedly out of the classroom. He didn't seem very enthusiastic about putting his name in the Goblet of Fire. Harry took a few steps towards the door to follow the crowd, but his father stopped him with one strong hand on his shoulder.

"Go on, Nev. Harry will join you later."

And with that, Neville and the rest of the Gryffindor left the room.

Harry wasn't sure why, but he knew that he was in trouble. His father said nothing as he closed the door. He then went to the shapeless Boggart, pulled out his wand and conjured up a long black sheet of fabric that covered the dead Boggart like a blanket.

Harry tried to move closer, but he was still very weak from the effect of the Dementor and the Patronus spell. He swayed on the spot and had to grab the side of the table to regain his balance. He thought that Professor Lupin would have given him a piece of chocolate right away. His father, however, did not seem to think that his son needed it. Instead, James Potter went to sit behind his desk and he did not offer to Harry to sit down. He looked very severe.

"Killing monsters isn't the point of this class, Harry." He said after a long silence.

"I didn't mean to, dad", said Harry apologetically.

But James Potter gave him an even more reproaching look.

"You will address me as _Professor_."

Harry looked down. He couldn't bare the look of disappointment on his father's face. The Patronus charm was very advanced magic. Why couldn't his father be proud of him?

"Sorry," said Harry very weakly.

He could feel the cold sweat on his face still. His screams of pain were ringing in his ears. He could also hear Voldemort's voice, frightful and very much alive. His father couldn't possibly guess what the Dementor's effect was on him, how horrible it felt. Harry knew that he only acted to defend himself from those horrible memories.

"Being sorry isn't good enough this time," said his father sternly.

Harry could tell that he was making every effort not to shout at him.

"I've warned you over and over. Why do you keep meddling with spells that are too advanced for your age? Why can't you just keep to your textbooks? What are you trying to prove?"

Harry didn't find anything to reply but a feeble "I'm sorry" once more.

"Performing advanced spells isn't going to bring you fame or popularity or friends. You're lucky enough that you have Neville, but you cannot be _like_ him, Harry. You expect too much."

"I didn't… I'm not… it wasn't about…" Harry began to say. He couldn't believe that his father would think that he was trying to attract attention and be more popular.

James Potter was shaking his head in total dismay. Harry started to wish he had never seen this look on his father's face.

"It pains me to say it, but you're a show off, Harry", his dad said harshly. "You have been since your first year, but this year it's got to stop. Someone besides you will be school champion. Someone else will have eternal glory, and it will be someone who deserves it. Do you understand, Harry?"

Harry could only stare at his feet. He had not imagined that his father would have such an opinion of him. Had he ever been a show off? He was not famous anymore. He wasn't the Boy Who Lived. He didn't have the scar. He was a normal fourth year student now and that was what he had wished for. Could there be a part of him that still wanted the fame? If there was, he would fight it so that his father would never have that disappointed look on his face again.

"Yes, sir, I understand," he said firmly.

"Good. Now tell me who taught you how to conjure a Patronus."

Harry couldn't look up. His stomach felt very tight. He didn't want to lie to his father, but he had no choice now.

"I learned about it in a book," he said hastily.

"Don't lie to me, Harry!" shouted James Potter. Then he took a deep breath. He seemed to be trying to calm himself down. "Don't lie. Was it Sirius?"

"No!" Harry said quickly.

The last thing he wanted was to cause a fight between Sirius and his dad. Besides, it would be a lie too. Professor Lupin had taught him the Patronus Charm. Sirius was not involved.

"I learned it in a book, that's all," he said, trying to sound convincing. "It was just a book."

His dad didn't look convinced at all. He remained silent a moment, staring at Harry with searching eyes.

"The Patronus Charm should not be used as a weapon. Surely your book told you that."

"No," Harry replied quietly.

He thought bitterly that Professor Lupin had not told him anything about a Patronus being anything else but a protective force.

"I will be writing to your mother," concluded his father. "I will also tell Professor McGonagall to put a second strike to your file for 'improper use of magic in a classroom'. If you put another toe out of line, I'm sending you home. Don't think that I'll make an exception because you're my son. You can go now."

Harry stared at his father for a moment, but James was not paying attention to him anymore. He had pulled out a piece of parchment and was beginning to write.

Harry gathered his school bag and books and left the room feeling very miserable. He knew that the teachers did give out strikes easily. It was only applied when the student had committed a dangerous or potentially harmful spell. Harry couldn't believe what his Patronus had done to the Boggart. He wanted to ask Lupin about it, but he didn't know if he could in this new reality.

His feet carried him slowly towards the Great Hall where the students were gathered up, watching whoever was coming to put their name in the Goblet of Fire. It was Ginny who spotted him first when he walked in. She came up to him and put her hand softly on his forearm.

"Harry, you look awful. Nev told me about the Boggart. What was that spell you used?"

"Patronus Charm," he said. There was no point in lying to Ginny.

Neville came up behind her. Colin and Dennis Creevey were following him closely, patting him on the back.

"Well done, Nev. I'm sure you'll be the Hogwarts champion, Nev," Colin was saying happily over and over.

Neville turned around and pushed Colin back very harshly. Colin didn't look like he was getting the message, though. He and his brother retreated with the other Gryffindors who were all continuously congratulating Neville from distance. Neville was obviously getting very annoyed with all the attention that was on him in the room. He didn't look very pleased at all.

"Let's get out of here, mate," he said.

With no further comment, he grabbed Harry by the arm and led him out of the Great Hall. Ginny was walking besides them, keeping up with their fast pace. They climbed unto the portrait hole. The Gryffindor Common Room was deserted, luckily enough. Harry let himself collapse on the couch in front of the fireplace, his favourite place when he had been friend with Ron and Hermione. He kept his eyes on the moving flames. His father's voice shouting at him was still on his mind. It seemed like he would never forget the awful look of disappointment on his father's face. Neither Neville nor Ginny said anything for a while. Harry almost forgot that they were there.

Then he felt something drop on his lap.

"It's a good thing you keep those handy, Ginny," said Neville as Harry noticed that she had given him a piece of chocolate.

Harry looked at it for a second and started to eat it absent-mindedly.

"How many points did he take from Gryffindor?" asked Ginny quietly, her eyes fixed on Harry.

"None," said Harry, thinking. "He's putting a strike to my file."

"Another?" said Neville. "I'm sorry, mate. You seem to be getting those for all the wrong reasons."

Harry looked at them. He didn't want to ask how he had gotten the first strike; that would be a weird question. He could never convince Neville and Ginny that he had forgotten about a thing like that. Yet he felt very curious about it.

"You don't think that I deserved it the last time?" he asked casually, making himself comfortable on the couch. The chocolate was making feel rather warm and calm inside.

"Are you kidding? You saved the school from the Basilisk!"

"You shouldn't feel guilty about that diary," supplied Ginny understandingly. "It could have been anyone. You were trying very hard to fight it."

"My dad didn't think so," said Harry. He was beginning to understand. He had been the one under the influence of Tom Riddle's diary in his second year. He had opened the Chamber of Secrets. He had set the monster loose.

"Your dad doesn't have a clue you that you saved the school, Harry," said Ginny. "All he knows is that you found the diary and opened the Chamber of Secrets while you were under its spell. He doesn't know how you fought back the spell and destroyed the diary and then killed the Basilisk all by yourself. He doesn't know the whole story. You stopped You-Know-Who's return that night! And even more importantly, you didn't let him control you. That was quite something, Harry."

"That's right," added Neville. "And I still can't believe you let Lockhart take all the credit. He was trying to steal your dad's job, and he walked out with the Order of Merlin! It should have been you."

Harry was feeling somewhat more cheerful. At least, Neville and Ginny didn't think that he was a show off. Also, he was beginning to understand the meaning of what Ginny had said in the train: he wasn't in the habit of telling his father everything.

"Thanks," he said, taking another bite of chocolate.

"You do have a knack for getting in trouble," said Ginny. She was smiling at him. The fire was making her eyes brighter. "But this year, you're just going to sit back and enjoy the Triwizard Tournament. You didn't put your name in the Goblet, did you, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. The thought had not even crossed his mind. Yet now that he was thinking about it, he was not sure how he would be able to stop Voldemort's return if he was not participating in the Triwizard tasks.

"I think that it's wise that you're not participating in the tournament, Harry," continued Ginny thoughtfully.

"There's no guarantee that he would have been selected, Gin," Neville pointed out.

"Harry's name would have come out, Neville, and you know it. Harry fears Dementors, and that's the fear of fear itself. It's the sign of a very powerful wizard. Remus Lupin says that it's very wise."

Harry's stomach jumped when he heard the name. He was glad that someone had finally mentioned Professor Lupin. Now he would have to find out from Ginny how to get in touch with him.

Ginny turned to Harry, her eyes full of admiration and something else too; Harry couldn't figure out what it was. He chose to ignore it for the moment. What he needed now was to focus on finding out if he could get in touch with his dad's old school friend, Remus Lupin.

"Professor Lupin didn't tell me the Patronus could be dangerous," said Harry tentatively.

"Maybe he didn't think that you would be able to produce one that strong. All you could achieve last year was a wisp of silver smoke," Ginny offered.

"_There is no greater power than to master one's own fear_," said Neville dreamily. "Remember when Lupin wrote that? I kept the letter. I kept all his letters, actually. For reference, you know. I like Lupin. He always has good advice, and he doesn't treat us like kids. It's a shame he and your dad don't speak anymore, Harry, but it does have one advantage."

"What's that?" asked Harry.

"You can ask him anything, and your dad will never know."


	4. Chapter 4

PART ONE

CHAPTER FOUR: THE CHAMPIONS ARE SELECTED

Harry Potter was sitting in the back of the Great Hall when Dumbledore announced that the time had come for the champion selection. A tense silence fell on the audience. The Gryffindor fourth years kept throwing glances in the direction of Neville Longbottom who was sitting between Harry and Ginny. Neville looked very casual on the surface, but Harry and Ginny knew that he had not slept at all the night before. Neville really did not want to participate in the Triwizard Tournament and the thought of his being selected was causing him a great discomfort.

"I don't want eternal glory, Harry," he had explained at breakfast. "I don't want to wrestle with giants. I just want to sit back and enjoy the show."

"It's going to be a sixth or seventh year anyway," Ginny had offered. She and Harry were trying very hard to cheer Neville up.

As far as the champion selection was concerned, Harry was more worried about what could happen if Cedric Diggory became Hogwarts champion. He was not sure that he wanted Cedric to compete this time around, but the Hufflepuff seventh year, Quidditch Seeker and Captain of the team, was the Hogwarts favourite so far. Everyone was betting that it would either be Cedric Diggory or Nev Longbottom. For his part, Harry hoped that it would be neither of the two.

"The Durmstrang champion is Viktor Krum!" said Dumbledore in a strong voice that brought Harry out of his reverie.

Harry looked over at the staff table. Igor Karkarof was beaming. Mr Crouch was bent over a long piece of parchment and didn't look nearly interested in the selection. Madame Maxime was standing proudly behind her students ("The champion from Beaubatons is Fleur Delacour!"). Harry's father was clapping vigorously. He, too, was glancing at Neville. Then the moment came.

"The Hogwarts champion is Neville Longbottom!"

The Great Hall exploded with applause. Everyone was on their feet. Harry had never seen such excitement in the Great Hall. The magical ceiling had become filled with shooting stars. Ron, Dean and Seamus were pushing Neville forward to the middle of the Great Hall. It all happened so fast that Harry did not even have time to say anything to Neville, no word of encouragement or support.

It took some time for the Great Hall to empty while the champions were taken into the Trophy Room. Harry insisted on remaining until the Hall was completely deserted. A part of him half-expected the Goblet to spill out a fourth name. However it did not happen. Ginny was beginning to yawn when they finally decided to head back to the Common Room.

When they walked in, Harry was shocked to find that Neville's name had been written all over the place. Someone had also drawn an enormous golden bolt of lightening on a long white sheet and it was hanging from the ceiling.

"Where's Nev?" asked Fred and George, jumping from behind a couch.

Harry glanced quickly over at Ginny, wondering if she might have a clue. She simply shrugged, ignoring Harry's stare.

"Don't know. I wouldn't wait up if I were you. I bet they'll keep the champions up all night with all the rules, the interviews and so on."

With a sigh of disappointment, the Gryffindors all emerged from their various hiding places and started wearily to head towards their dormitories.

"We'll congratulate him at breakfast then," said Fred, yawning. "Bless the little squirt. I bet he'll be the youngest Triwizard champion ever. All the teachers say that he must be really special. Well we'll soon see. Good night!"

An hour later, the Gryffindor Common Room was all deserted, except for Harry and Ginny who were still on the couch waiting for Neville to show up. Ginny was very thoughtful and they did not speak much. It was close to midnight when Neville finally arrived. Harry immediately noticed that his eyes were very red.

"I was in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," he simply said, sitting down on the rug in front of the fireplace and avoiding looking at his two friends.

Harry and Ginny exchanged a glance then both of them dropped unto the floor next to Neville.

Harry instantly felt pity for him. No one would be calling Neville a cheat like they had called Harry, but Neville would feel miserable just the same. Neville did not believe himself up to the challenge. Harry had no idea how he could possibly help him feel better about his abilities.

"It's not a coincidence," Ginny said after a long silence where Neville seemed to be fighting back tears.

The two boys turned to her inquiringly.

"The escapes from Azkaban last year, the Dark Mark at the World Cup, your name rising from that Goblet, Harry's dreams; it's all related to You-Know-Who," she said darkly.

"You're not making me feel better, Gin," said Neville. He looked positively scared now. "What dreams, Harry?"

"Well… err…"

Harry didn't have time to explain. Ginny was exposing her theory now.

"Nev, you are not as powerful as Cedric Diggory. You're as good as can be expected of a fourth year, that's all. Why did the Goblet select you then?"

Neville shrugged. Harry had _some_ idea but decided to let Ginny continue.

"Someone outsmarted the Goblet into selecting you, Nev. They want you, You-Know-Who's followers. The teachers are not allowed to interfere in the Triwizard Tournament. It's the perfect opportunity."

"You think that someone has tricked the Goblet of Fire?" asked Neville. "But who? A student couldn't have done it. It's a really powerful magical object. I can't imagine a teacher… Surely there couldn't be any Death Eaters at Hogwarts, could there?"

"Igor Karkarof," Harry offered. "He was a convicted Death Eater. He went to Azkaban for it."

Ginny and Neville looked at him with wide eyes and in shock.

"I heard my dad talking about it," Harry explained quickly. "Karkarof was released from Azkaban when he gave the Council names of other Death Eaters. That's how Mr Crouch's son was arrested. Snape was mentioned, but he was cleared of all charges against him by Dumbledore."

Neville and Ginny seemed to be taking in this new information very thoughtfully.

"My dad doesn't like Snape," Neville added. He was whispering conspiringly. "He says that no one stops being a Death Eater."

"Sirius says the same thing," said Harry thoughtfully.

"All those escapes last year," Ginny began to say as though she was thinking out loud. "I bet you anything that Mr Crouch's son was among them. It would explain the extra protection they put around Mr Crouch at the World Cup."

"I didn't know notice that," said Harry awkwardly.

"We know that Peter Pettigrew also escaped last year, so that's two Death Eaters on the loose," concluded Neville. "Pettigrew is the worst. He betrayed his friends and my parents. It's because of him that my parents and I almost died when I was a baby and I got the scar. Now Karkarof can help Pettigrew to get to me. They'll finish what You-Know-Who started. There are no Dementors this year to stop him. Oh God. Hogwarts is not safe anymore. I'm doomed!"

Neville looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown. His eyes were bright with tears again. Harry threw a reproaching look at Ginny. Her theory was good, in fact better than what she could probably guess, but it was not helping Neville to feel secured about the upcoming tasks.

"We do have one advantage, Nev," said Ginny firmly. She sounded determined. "Harry's dreams."

"Harry's dreams?" said Neville, wiping his cheek with the sleeve of his robe.

"I think that your experience with Tom Riddle's diary in your second year gave you a special connection to You-Know-Who, Harry."

"Huh?" Harry and Neville said together, but not for the same reasons.

"Of course!" continued Ginny. "I thought about it when you told me about the first dream in the beginning of the summer, and you've told me you keep having the same dream."

"I'm sure it's not that…" said Harry quietly. Neville was looking at him with a gloomy expression.

"The Dark Mark made your head hurt, didn't it?"

"Well yes but…"

"You saw You-Know-Who in a house with Pettigrew and other people in your dream. They were plotting something."

"It was just a dream," retorted Harry.

"You have to trust these dreams, Harry, and what you feel. It might give us a clue as to what You-Know-Who's followers are up to, like a warning that danger's coming."

All three of them went silent for a while. Harry felt as though a tremendous weight had been laid on his shoulders. He had never thought of his dreams as such. Dumbledore had told him not to dwell upon his dreams, to cast them away. He couldn't see how the things he was seeing or feeling could help Neville in the upcoming tasks.

Harry could tell that this was a lot of information for Neville to handle. He was twisting the sleeve of his robe madly and biting his lower lip so that it would stop trembling. Ginny was staring at the fire in front of her.

"I don't see how I'm going to survive this tournament," said Neville weakly.

"I'll help you," said Harry without a moment's hesitation.

The corner of Neville's lip twitched into a half-smile.

"Me too," said Ginny. "We're in this as a team. You'll get through this, I swear."

The three of them headed to bed about an hour later. Ginny wrote down a schedule of trainings for Neville leading to the date of the first task. She would ask Professor McGonnagal to lend them a spare classroom. Neville's nervous state seemed to improve after that. Harry was already thinking about spells that he could teach him, yet all the while he was remembering what Dumbledore had said: "If chosen, you stand alone."

That night Harry dreamt that he was in a maze. Every turn that he was making was taking him closer and closer to the Triwizard Cup. A shrill laughing voice that he recognised as Voldemort's was whispering his name. He was trying to get away, as far away as possible, out of the maze, away from Hogwarts, away from everything. He wanted to be in his parent's house again. But the wind was strong and the maze was tricking him. The Cup was coming closer and closer.

When he woke up, his forehead was burning as though the scar had been there.

Harry hoped that if there were only three contestants, as it was supposed to in the Triwizard Tournament, then there would be only three dragons and the Hungarian Horntail would not be accounted for. It was bad enough to imagine Neville slaying a dragon, but the idea of the Horntail and what it might do to poor Neville was even worst. Unfortunately, the news that Ron brought to Neville was not encouraging.

They were walking up to the owlery, Harry and Ginny, when Neville caught up with them. He was panting and his cheeks were very red.

"Dragons! That's the first task," he breathed out to Harry and Ginny after he had made sure that there was no one else in the owlery. "Ron just told me, Ginny. Your brother Charlie was here last night to help in bringing them over from Romania."

Harry was actually glad that Ron had told Neville because he had not yet found a lie that would explain how he would know about the dragons. Obviously, Fleur and Krum were probably informed by now as well, so they were at least all on the same level as far as that was concerned.

"It's a disaster!" almost yelled out Neville. "It's going to be a massacre. I'm going to die in front of all those people; or worst, _faint_."

"You won't faint, Nev," said Ginny, patting him on the shoulders, "and you won't die, either. I'm glad we finally know what the first task is. We'll be able to train you accordingly. Charlie taught me stuff about dragons, loads of useful spells. You'll be great, Neville."

Harry was eyeing Ginny widely. Why hadn't _he_ asked her before? She could have helped _him_ the first time. But it was Neville who needed Ginny's help now. Sirius had also mentioned something about a dragon's weak spot. Harry was trying hard to remember what it was when a familiar owl landed in front of him. He took no notice of the bird until Ginny stopped short her explanation about Stunning spells and said: "Paris has a letter for you, Harry."

"Oh! No! Is it a Howler, Harry?" asked Neville, eyeing the owl Paris suspiciously.

It wasn't. Paris was holding out a small brown envelope that looked worn from the long trip. Harry took the letter and the owl immediately bit his finger as he did so.

"Paris! Don't bite me. I'm your friend, remember, your owner? Honestly."

"He wants you to thank him, Harry. He's a really proud owl. He likes to strut," said Ginny, laughing.

"My owl doesn't _strut_," Harry retorted quickly, remembering that Snape had said the same thing about his father.

"Is it from Lupin?" asked Neville while looking over Harry's shoulder.

It was indeed Remus Lupin. He was answering to the letter that Harry had sent him concerning the Patronus. Harry had related the incident with the Boggart and asked only one small question: "Can a Patronus be dangerous?"

The answer was as such:

_Dear Harry,_

_How are you? It's nice to hear from you. I hope you had a good summer and enjoyed the World Cup even though you're not particularly fond of Quidditch. _

"Not again," thought Harry bitterly. He was really annoyed that no one thought that he could appreciate Quidditch.

_Your letter doesn't say it but I am sure that your father was not pleased with your performing a Patronus Charm in his classroom. Since I have not heard from him, I take it that you did not tell him about our correspondence of last year concerning that particular charm. I do not like the idea of you lying to your father. Things are happening now that might force me to visit Hogwarts this year, maybe at Christmas. You and I will have a talk about this situation then. You need to understand that the quarrel between your father and me is not against you, but if he asks it of me I will cease to write to you nonetheless. One day you will understand. _

_As for your Patronus, I am glad that you were able to conjure one to repel that Dementor/Boggart. However, I must admit that I did not expect that you would be able to produce one so strong. It's quite an improvement from last year. It is highly advanced magic. Boggarts are very tricky to handle, yet they do not have the full power of a Dementor. You used the spell correctly, but against a very feeble adversary. _

_You should know that any spell can be dangerous depending on the need of the moment and/or the wizard who conjures it. Even a simple spell can be harmful, especially if performed at arm's length or during a moment of heightened emotions. For your part, I do not believe that the Dementor could have hurt you in any way. It was after all just a Boggart. There would have to be horrors in your past beyond anything you have ever experienced for the Dementor to have a serious effect on you. What you need to work on is to master your fear of Dementors rather than advanced spells. _

_If the Dementors really frighten you so, you should definitely talk to your mother or father about it. They will help you to fight your daemons, Harry. They really can._

_I'll see you soon._

_Take care until then and enjoy the tournament._

_Remus Lupin_

Harry handed the letter for Neville and Ginny to read.

"I wonder what the quarrel between them is. Lupin and your father, I mean. Your father sure doesn't like Lupin at all, but Lupin doesn't sound so bad really," said Ginny conclusively. "Something must have happened. Something dreadful."

"Perhaps it's because Lupin is a werewolf," Harry said pensively.

The thought had crossed his mind a few days ago when his father had given them an essay to do: "Compare and contrast the ways in which to identify and cure werewolf and vampire bites". James Potter had been very harsh on the case of werewolves. It had not appeared to Harry like the talk of someone who had been friend with one.

Presently, Ginny and Neville were staring at him in surprise.

"You never told us!" said Neville. "A werewolf!"

"Maybe your father only wants to protect you, Harry. No parents would want their kids anywhere near a werewolf. My mom would have a heart attack," said Ginny quietly.

"My parents too, Harry!"

"Did he say he's _coming_ to school?" said Neville quickly, snatching the letter from Harry.

"Lupin is a good guy, okay?" said Harry. He was almost upset, but then he reminded himself that Neville and Ginny didn't know Lupin at all. They could not be possibly as fond of him as he was.

"Don't let anyone know that he's a werewolf," he told them sharply. "He'll be fine. He takes a potion for it. Besides, my dad will know how to manage him if anything unexpected happens."

Harry really wanted to believe that his father was still fond enough of Lupin to help him, not hunt him down like an animal, should Lupin's condition become a problem while he was visiting the school. He could recall perfectly the horrible pictures of wizards and Muggles setting a werewolf on fire to kill it. Snape had made sure that every student would remember that class. As much as he wanted to speak to Lupin again, Harry was starting to feel that maybe it wasn't safe for him to come to Hogwarts.

That evening, Neville's favourite new subject for conversation was dragons and werewolves. Harry, Ginny and him had gathered as much books about dragons from the library as they possibly could and had brought them back in the Common Room to study them in their spare time. The result was that the floor was covered in leaves and parchments of red and black pictures of either ferocious dragons or their dead victims. Any girl that tried to get close to Neville recoiled in horror, except Eleanor. She kept interrupting Harry, Ginny and Neville's reading to ask her brother to sign autographs for other students.

Neville had also taken out a few books about werewolves, which Harry found really childish. They should be concentrating on dragons, not on Remus Lupin's dark side. Harry was simply exhausted. His head was throbbing again. He couldn't help it. He found Neville's new interest for the slaying of werewolves very annoying and was afraid that his friend would accidentally reveal Lupin's secret.

"You never know," Neville said as a reply to Harry. He was turning the pages of Lockhart's 'Waking with the Werewolf'. "You-know-who could forget to take his potion."

"This you-know-who business is pointless," Harry said wearily, shutting his copy of "Donjons and Dragons: Myths and Reality" closed with a loud snap. "At least try to say it only when you're talking about Voldemort."

But the look that Neville and Ginny gave him at that moment reminded him how much people were frightened to hear Voldemort's name spoken out loud.

"Sorry," he said, feeling awkward.

"Harry, you said his _name_. Even _I_ don't say his name," said Neville nervously.

Ginny grinned at Neville. It made Harry grin too. Neville looked at them both for a moment, and then started to laugh. The three of them laughed whole-heartedly and uncontrollably for the next fifteen minutes that followed. It felt good for Harry. It seemed to him that he had not laughed for a long time.

"Okay, I get it," said Neville, wiping a tear and hiccoughing a little. "I'm not the bravest person to say his name. But I know for a fact that only Dumbledore can say it in a casual way like you just did, Harry."

Suddenly, Harry remembered what Hermione had said what seemed like a long time ago. It was a new Hermione now. She was not so serious anymore, but she was still very bright and the first one to answer in every class. Harry had seen her this morning in the Great Hall, eating breakfast with Ron. Harry was happy that some things had not changed.

"_Fear of name only increases the fear of the thing itself_," he said in a more cheerful voice than he had intended. "If you can't call him Voldemort, then maybe we should call him Tom Riddle. How's that?"

Neville gave a shudder and stared at him wide eyed.

"Harry, really you shouldn't say it anymore," he said seriously.

Harry could not argue. Who was he, after all, to be so arrogant as to pronounce the name that everyone feared?

Later that evening, they were flipping the pages of the books in silence, their eyelids heavy, and their brains more or less working properly, when Neville said something that kept Harry up all night.

"You're very brave, Harry. More than just brave. You're a great wizard. You're like Dumbledore. You will be one day. I wish you could battle the dragon instead of me."


	5. Chapter 5

PART ONE

CHAPTER FIVE: THE FIRST TASK

Two days before the first task, Harry and Ginny found Neville in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom for the third time of the week. He was bent over the u-bend, looking very pale, almost green.

"I'm going to be sick," he said.

And he was indeed sick. Myrtle was the only one to find it funny.

That night, Harry had a strange dream. He was in the castle, on the stone floor, then outside on the castle ground, very low on the grass and moving very fast among the trees and plants. Then he was in the stadium, the one that had been put up the very same day for the upcoming first task. Harry could recognise the rocks and the smell of smoke. There was like a thunder above him. He looked up and saw three monstrous dragons tied to the ground with a huge metal harness. One of the dragons was grassy green and had shiny scales, a Welsh Green. Harry felt very small from his point of view. The dragon was pulling violently at its harness. Suddenly, a ring of the harness snapped. It had broken. With one loud roar, the dragon soared in the night sky.

Harry woke up with a start. He was panting slightly. His scar was burning again. It was happening more and more often, at least once a week. Was it hurting that often the last time? Harry was not sure. He couldn't remember.

"Not my scar," he thought, rubbing his forehead and wiping the sweat from his eyes. "I don't have a scar. It's just a bad dream."

But Harry couldn't help to think that his dragon, the Horntail, had been able to break free of its restraining chain, just like the dragon in his dream. If whatever dragon Neville picked broke free this time too, then Neville would really be in danger.

"Why would it break free, though? You don't think…" said Ginny in a squeaky voice.

It was the morning of the first task. Harry looked down at his bowl of cereals and said nothing. Ginny continued to stare at him with a horrified expression. She was taking this last dream very seriously.

"It's just what I saw," Harry said quietly so that no one but Ginny would hear. Neville had given up eating the day before and was probably locked up in Myrtle's cubicle at this hour of the day.

Ginny was looking utterly put out.

"What can we do?" she breathed out. "The task is a couple of hours away. What will happen to Nev?"

Harry's mind was racing. He was looking for a solution, but it always came back to the same idea: flying.

"You're sure that Nev's flying isn't up to it?"

Ginny looked up to him, but what Harry saw in her face wasn't very hopeful.

"He's afraid of height, Harry. By the time he makes up his mind to mount a broomstick, the dragon will be sucking on his _bones_."

But Harry was still convinced that it was the best way to beat the dragon and win the task, and also Neville's best chance to survive if anything unexpected should happen. As soon as they had finished breakfast, he told his plan to Ginny and he put her in charge of making sure that Neville could perform a Summoning Charm. She immediately headed to the girl's bathroom although she repeated that Neville's _toad_ was probably better at handling a broomstick.

After first glancing at the clock and evaluating how much time he had, Harry dashed towards the Quidditch store room and pulled out the best broom that he could find and borrow without anyone taking notice. He chose a Cleansweep. It was in good order, not as fast as the Nimbus Two Thousands and Ones belonging to the Slytherin team, but it was still a good broom by normal standards. Besides, he was sure that the Slytherin's brooms were protected against anyone touching them, least of all borrowing them. Also he was realising that he no longer had a Firebolt. The thought caused his stomach to momentarily tighten, but he quickly shook the memory out of his waking thoughts. There was a task more important to be done. He couldn't linger on the things that he was missing.

As he was walking in the corridors to bring the broomstick to the top tower, his forehead seared with pain and he swayed on the spot. He had to lean on the cold stone wall for a second before continuing his walk. The pain had been very sharp and sudden. As he started to walk again, he thought of Neville. Did the pain in his forehead mean that Neville was in danger? Was he to trust such an elusive feeling? There was another solution for the first task. It was so wild that Harry had only scarcely thought about it. Yet as he was speeding along the corridors, the idea seemed more and more like the right course of action. He wasn't going to let Neville die. There was still time, and Snape's Potion classroom was only a few stairs away.

In the meanwhile, the first task had started. Viktor Krum had received his score and Fleur Delacour was walking out unto the stadium. When Harry reached the champion's tent, it was deserted except for Neville who was sitting on a chair, looking really sick and about to faint.

He had decided that it would be better to suggest first to Neville the option of using the broomstick as he wasn't sure how Neville would react to the other idea.

"Ginny told me about the broomstick. Where is it, Harry. I'm not very good at Summoning. I'm not very good at flying either, in fact."

"It's in the top tower. You can see it from the stadium. The key is to concentrate. It's a good broom and…"

But Neville cut him short.

"It's no use, Harry. My flying days ended when Hagrid signed me up for a ride with the Hippogriff and lightening hit me. Thanks anyway, mate."

Harry felt very sorry. It was his fault somehow that Neville was caught in this situation. He had to go to plan B. There was no other option available.

Quickly, he pulled out a few of Neville's hair and sprinkled them over the cup that he was holding behind his back.

"What are you going? What's that?"

"Polyjuice Potion," said Harry matter-of-factly. "I'll take you place. The effect will last exactly one hour. It will be long enough for me to slay the dragon and get back here. You get it?"

Neville was speechless, but the color was coming back to his face.

"You would? They'll notice, Harry."

"No, they won't. They'll just think you're not a bad flyer. Hurry up and give me your cloak. Fleur must be nearly finished with the Welsh Green."

Neville didn't argue. Seconds later, Harry was wearing the black and red cloak over his normal black shirt. The cloak had 'Longbottom' written on the back. Neville wrapped himself on a blanket and shivered as Harry drank the potion. The effect of the Polyjuice was almost instantaneous.

Harry was stuffing his glasses in the pockets of his pants when Dumbledore's voice boomed throughout the stadium: "Now, our third and last champion: Neville Longbottom!"

"This is _mad_," Neville said. His voice was barely shaking now, which was an improvement. "I'm looking at myself, but it isn't me. How do you feel?"

Harry was certain that his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He took two long breathes and pulled out his wand. It was weird to be Neville, to have longer arms and no glasses, but he had no time to linger over such details. Outside of the tent, the dragon was roaring, and so was the crowd.

"Stay hidden," murmured Harry, moving closer to the doorway of the tent and towards the cheers and applause.

Neville did not say good luck, or if he did, Harry did not hear it. He had just walked into the stadium and the crowd was absolutely wild. All the Hogwarts students were shouting in unison: "Nev! Nev! Nev!" The first thing that came to Harry's mind was "I can't believe that I'm actually doing this again".

He did not let the dragon startle him this time. He hurried behind the first big rock to his right, thinking that the Horntail, or whatever dragon he was fighting, would not be able to reach him there with its fire or its tail. But instead of a great roar and crashing noise, he heard the crowd laughing.

Slowly, he raised his head from behind the rock. The dragon was wrapped around the egg, in the middle of the stadium, and it didn't look about to get up to chase after Harry.

"Not a Horntail," Harry whispered to himself.

The dragon was a long white reptile with small legs at both ends of its slender body. It had a yellowish moustache and pink whiskers around its very large mouth. Its pearl coloured skin was shimmering in the sunlight and Harry could distinctively see fine black spikes on its back like thin hair.

Harry had seen a picture of this dragon before. It was in a book. There had been Chinese writings around it. Now would be a good time to remember what he had read about that dragon, but his mind was totally blank. All he could think about was Viktor Krum. Krum's dragon had been a Chinese Fireball the last time. Yet this dragon didn't look like a fireball; it looked like a white snake with the face of an old man.

Presently, the dragon was looking up at him. Harry was peering from behind the rock. He thought about the broomstick in the top tower, but this dragon had no wings. His plan to fly around the dragon was useless if he was the only one in the air.

Slowly, he decided to get closer to the dragon, wishing that he had the Invisibility Cloak, but the cloak as locked away in the Gryffindor dormitory therefore he couldn't summon it.

The dragon was eyeing him suspiciously. It didn't look angry at him as the Horntail had. It had all the appearance of being poised, almost relaxed. Harry thought that if he could get close enough to it then he might be able to sneak pass it.

He made his way among the rocks until he was behind the dragon. Then he started to approach the creature slowly. He could almost touch the dragon. It was a beautiful beast, really. Harry had never seen scales like this. He could almost see his reflection in the dragon's skin. But then he realised that it was not his reflection; he was looking at the face of Neville Longbottom.

Someone screamed. Then the whole crowd began to shout at him. Only, they were shouting "Nev!" instead of his name. Before he could realise what was happening, Harry was swept off his feet and sent crashing into the rocks. Every breath was knocked out of him by the strength with which the dragon's tail had pushed him backwards. He tried to crawl away from the next attack, but he was too slow. He felt the dragon's spike behind his left shoulder and a stinging pain in his upper back. With his right hand, he pointed his wand at the dragon's body and said: "Stupefy!" It had happened so fast that he was not even sure which part of the dragon's body he had hit, but the dragon recoiled in pain. Its long white body swirled back into its nesting position. Now the dragon's eyes were fixed on Harry. It was drawing its breath for fire.

Harry looked around him and realised that he was out in the open with no place to take cover. He lurched himself face forward on the ground, hoping to avoid the beam of fire that was directed at him. However, when he looked up, he saw that something else had come out of the dragon's mouth. Two large flaming balls were spinning around the stadium madly like two Rogue Bludgers. And they were coming his way.

Harry ran towards the spot where he had entered the stadium hoping that he would find shelter behind the bigger rocks. It was useless. The fireballs were coming towards him fast and he could not escape. It was as though they were actually searching for him.

Harry raised his wand, bracing himself for the blow, and shouted the first spell that same to his mind.

"_Immobilis_!" he said as strongly as he could.

It was enough. The two fireballs stopped in midair, hovered gently for a few seconds, then the flame died out and the fireballs vanished. Harry could hear the crowd cheering. There was no time to waste; the dragon was drawing its breath again. He needed the broomstick now. He needed to fly or the fireballs would catch him.

"_Accio_ Cleansweep!" he said, every part of his brain concentrating on the spell.

The broom appeared seconds later. Harry jumped from the top of a rock and unto the broomstick. Once in the air, he felt a lot safer. The fireballs that the dragon was throwing at him were nothing more than Bludgers. The dragon was not so tall from high above. He could see the egg clearly, glittering in the sunlight, an easy target, like an overlarge Golden Snitch. He started to circle around the dragon just like he had done with the Horntail. He could hear from the cheers in the crowd that it was coming as a surprise that Neville was a good flyer.

It would have been an easy task if the dragon had not been able to fly. A wave seemed to go through its body and slowly, as though it was swimming, the dragon rose into the air. It was now hovering slightly above the ground, swirling like a ring of smoke around the egg. There was an apprehensive sigh from the crowd, but Harry was not discouraged at all really. If the dragon could fly even though it did not have wings, then it would follow him up and off the ground, and leave the egg relatively unprotected.

Harry continued his circling around the dragon restlessly. The swirling movement of the dragon's slender body reminded him of a graceful sea-creature.

It was pulling hard at its chain now. Harry thought quickly that he should make for the egg as soon as possible. He rose as high as he could so that he might take the dive and cease the price. The Cleansweep was slower than the Firebolt therefore he needed more height. The dragon was angry at him now and trying to snap him with its large mouth as though he was an annoying bud.

Still, Harry climbed unto the sky. And then it happened just like he had feared; the chain broke. Harry heard the click and the snap and the roar of the dragon as it seared into the air. Its body was like a ripple in the water, and it was coming towards Harry very quickly.

Harry had to wheel around to avoid crashing into the dragon's head. The dragon was coming at him swiftly and faster than the Cleansweep could go. Harry tried circling around the stadium, but the dragon had a very flexible body and flying in circle seemed to be easier for it than it was for Harry on the Cleansweep. Harry had no choice; he had to get away from the stadium. He could loose the white dragon on Hogwarts' ground just as he had out flown the Horntail.

Pulling the broomstick upwards, he set his course towards the castle towers, pass the staring crowd. It was working: now free of its chain, the dragon was following him. With a glance back, he saw that the creature actually could not fly in straight lines at all. It was slithering in the sky just like a snake would have on the grass. This gave Harry the advantage of speed.

He made for the bridges, holding on tight to the broomstick's handle, trying to keep it going in a steady straight line. His shoulder was numb and this was affecting his left hand and stirring of the broom. There was no pain, though. In fact, there was no feeling in his left arm at all.

Suddenly, two fireballs flew past him. He avoided them by wheeling to the right and around the Astronomy tower. The dragon was fiercely throwing balls of fire at him. There were four flaming balls following him now.

"He's trying to make me fly in curves," thought Harry. "Can it be that smart?"

The dragon was gaining on him as more fireballs brushed the tail of his broom. He had no choice. He could no longer maintain a straight line.

The bridge leading to Hagrid's hut was close. He directed the broom in a downward curve towards it. The dragon was still tailing him. He saw the small openings windows on the bridge. The Cleansweep was not as steady as the Firebolt but he knew that he could manage to get through a window. And he did. But so did the snake-like dragon.

Harry looked around and saw that it was still following him. More fireballs were coming after him, crashing occasionally on the castle's walls or into a tree or simply dying out. He was managing to stay clear of the fire, but only barely. He pulled the broomstick into a dive towards the school grounds. If he could not loose the dragon in the towers and bridges, perhaps he would manage it among the trees and archways.

Flying on the school grounds as low as he was and on a Cleansweep was not easy. The dragon was gaining on him still, swirling around the trees and doorways and arches as though it was sea grass. They went pass the clock tower and the dragon was almost at level with him. Then he saw it. In front of him was the only tree that could help him.

Harry wheeled around and set his course towards the Whomping Willow. If no students could not get pass those branches, then the dragon would not either.

The first branch that hit Harry threw him off his broom and he landed on his side on the hard and cold ground. Harry looked up just in time to see the dragon being knocked on the head and fall exactly where he had fallen. He rolled over quickly and the dragon missed him only by a few inches as it landed on its belly. The sound of the crashing dragon and its roar were like roll of thunder that shook the entire castle grounds.

Harry struggled to his feet, wand firmly in his right hand. They had both fallen out of reached of the Whomping Willow. The tree was shivering but at least it would not be attacking them. The dragon lay motionless on the ground. Its breathing was uneven, and it long body was circling Harry completely.

Harry looked around. The dragon was around him like it had been around the egg. Its body had become a three-feet-tall fence. The stadium was no longer in sight, and neither was the broomstick. Harry could not do the Summoning Charm if he didn't know where the broom was. The broom could very well have been smashed into pieces by the Whomping Willow just like his Nimbus Two Thousand had been. The monster did not seem conscious, but Harry was trapped. He could not escape.

He was staring into the dragon's face when the creature's eyes snapped opened. The dragon raised its head slightly but kept his entire body on the ground. Harry looked around for an exit, but there was none.

He was hardly aware of what happened next. A murmur started to fill his mind. It soon became so overwhelming that it was blocking out his knowledge of everything else around him. His vision was becoming foggy. Was he having a dream, a waken nightmare? What was happening to him?

"You cannot fool me," whispered the voice.

Harry put his hands over his ears, but he could not block the voice. It was _inside_ his head.

"You are not what you seem," said the voice again.

It was becoming clearer. It was all around him.

"The massster wantsss him," hissed another voice close to Harry.

This time, it was not inside his head at all. It was a familiar hissing sound. Harry shook his head, trying to clear the fog that had fallen like a blind over his eyes. He looked at his feet and saw the shadowy form of a small snake, slithering slowly around him.

"Takesss him!" said the snake impatiently. "The masster awaitsss."

WHAM!

The dragon had slammed its enormous scaly paw on the ground, inches from where the snake was. Its three marble coloured claws clenched at the earth.

"I am not one of the worthless slime that your master can command," said the voice in Harry's head.

Then he realised that it must be the dragon speaking. Only, it wasn't moving its lips. It was speaking in his head, like telepathy.

"But can he hear my thoughts too?" wondered Harry silently. He had said the words in his head, concentrating very hard.

"Traitorsss!" shouted the snake with its tongue hissing out of its mouth. "The massster will punisssh the betrayersss."

"I swore no allegiance to your master," said the dragon sternly. "I shall decide on the fate of the boy. Now run to your master and tell him what choice I have made."

The snake circled around Harry once, muttering to itself. It seemed hesitant to leave him, but what other choice did it really have against a dragon? Harry took a step back, trying to put some distance between himself and the snake. His vision was clearer now, the fog was almost gone. His wand was firmly in his hand. He knew one good spell to get rid of snakes and he was ready to use it. But before he had time to decide, the dragon had lifted its tail and the snake was sliding away under it and then it was out of sight.

Harry looked at it furiously as it was slithering out of sight. He wanted to go after it, but the dragon quickly brought its long tail back unto to rest on the ground.

"Let it go," said the voice in his head.

Harry was alone with the dragon, still trapped, and hearing a voice in his head.

"Are you going to kill me?" asked Harry defiantly.

The words had come out of his mouth this time. He was clutching his wand very tightly. He was ready to use it.

The dragon raised its head high, withdrawing its tail as it did so in order to pull itself off the ground. It was no longer forming a circle around Harry. It was not attacking him. Was it just letting him _go_? Was it another trap?

"Kill you?" said the dragon softly, its voice (inside Harry's mind) sounded less fierce now that the snake was gone. "Such strong words for so young a soul."

Harry had almost forgotten about the tournament or about the Polyjuice Potion. The dragon had saved him from the snake, then, he concluded in his mind. A _dragon_ had refused to take him to Voldemort. "No," he corrected himself, "the dragon refused to take _Neville_ to Voldemort." But why? He wanted to understand…

"You are not what you seem," repeated the dragon in Harry's head. "You cannot fool me with your spells and potions, young wizard. I can see your mind."

Harry wasn't sure if he should answer back in English or Parselmouth. He didn't know if he should be speaking in his mind only, either. It was all very confusing. "How does one talk to a _dragon_?" he wondered.

"Parseltongue we understand," said the dragon's voice in his head. It was a really cavernous sound, like a low-pitched strong being plucked. "At least, some of us among the elders do. We do not speak it. We leave that to the Fork Tongues. But you have a gift of another kind."

Harry was puzzled, and then he remembered the fog that he almost blinded him. It was still clouding everything around him. The castle was like a grey ghost in the background. The Whomping Willow was a shadow moving gently against the white sky. The dragon was the only distinctive form that he could see. Was the dragon doing something to him?

"In dreams we hold," was the only explanation that the dragon gave him.

Harry was trying to form a question to ask in Parseltongue when something shinny caught his eyes. There was a dark spot on the dragon's neck. Blood was dripping on the grass. Harry realised in alarm that his spell must have hit the creature where the scales did not protect its skin. Harry was now staring at the dark spot and pointing at it with his left hand.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you," he said. He was trying to speak snake language but he wasn't sure if he had achieved it.

"So there is another Master of Snakes," said the dragon mysteriously. "That is news indeed. But you are not aware of all your powers."

"I've never talked to a dragon before," said Harry. He felt that being honest was his only option since the dragon could read his mind.

The dragon was eyeing him searchingly. It made Harry very uncomfortable. He wasn't sure how much of his mind the dragon could see. Did the creature know that he had changed time? He tried very hard not to think about that, but it was too late.

"I see," said the dragon conclusively. "I shall keep an eye on you, young Master of Snakes."

Harry shifted on the spot. The dragon knew about the spell. Was he going to turn him in? Harry couldn't see how a _dragon_ could do that. How many people in the wizard world could speak to dragons?

"Your secret is safe," said the dragon in reply to Harry's thoughts. "You have freed me. I am in debt to you."

The huge creature shook its head and Harry heard the clicking sound of metal. The dragon still had a piece of the harness attached to its long neck, just below the spot of blood that was a result of Harry's spell.

Then Harry understood. This dragon was not his enemy. It was not going to hurt him or turn him to Voldemort. Moreover, they were connected now because they had saved each other. Dumbledore had said something like that, something about being in mutual debt creating a bond between two people…

Slowly, tentatively, he took a few steps closer to the beast. The dragon did not make any move against him, nor was it trying to fly away. It was merely resting on the cold dirt. Harry reached out with his left hand timidly. The dragon seemed to give him leave. With the tip of his fingers, he touched the dragon's scales slowly and delicately. He could see the chain and it was well within his reach.

In slow motion, he raised his wand and said "_Reducto_!" There was a cling and the chain fell into the ground. No words were spoken, but Harry felt instantly the dragon's gratefulness. It was like a warm breeze in his mind and chest.

As he was felling much more comfortable in the presence of the dragon, his brain was already growing uneasy again. The hour was drawing to its end. Soon, Charlie and the other dragon keepers would start looking for the beast and he, Harry, would loose the appearance of Neville Longbottom.

"You are right, we must hurry," said the dragon.

Harry felt the sweep of the wind as the dragon rose into the air, hovering gently around him and over his head.

"I wish I could tell you that they will not find you," said Harry. "I'm afraid your freedom won't last very long."

"They do not know this part of the world as I do," said the voice. Harry instantly felt reassured. Perhaps the dragon has a chance after all.

He couldn't really explain why but he felt aggrieved that the dragon was leaving him. He had a feeling that they could learn a lot about each other, even be friends. It was a very odd idea to have. How could he possibly hope to befriend a dragon? And if Voldemort rose again, if the Dark Lord came back, would the dragon still be his friend?

"Do you think that you have claim over us?" asked the dragon sharply. The voice echoed in Harry's head like a drumbeat.

"No!" said Harry hurriedly. "I only meant…"

Harry stopped. He didn't want the dragon to think that he was like Voldemort because he was a Parselmouth.

"I need to ask you this," Harry said resolutely. "If Lord Voldemort was to rise again, would the dragons join him? Would you take his side?"

A wave went through the dragon's body as it circled once around him. Harry forced himself to stay still. He did not want to show that he felt threatened.

"As I said," Answered the dragon, "I shall be watching you."

The dragon wheeled around, closing in on Harry. Still, Harry did not move. The white creature was face to face with him. It turned its head to the left, revealing the dark spot on the right side of its neck, just below the whiskers. Blood was still dripping along the scales.

"You have marked me as I have marked you," said the dragon.

Harry reached to his left shoulder with his right hand. When he withdrew it, there was blood on his finger tips. He was not feeling any pain, just numbness throughout his left arm, but there was a wound. The dragon's spike had more than brushed him. It had definitely cut him through his skin.

"There is powerful magic in marks such as these, as I am sure you are well aware of."

Harry instinctively thought of his forehead. The scar was there, but only because he was in the body of Neville Longbottom. Yet it did feel like it was always there, as though it was more than just a mark but a part of him as well.

"What do they call you? What's your name?" Harry asked.

"You will not be able to say it. Among dragons, it means 'wise like the water'," he said as he began to rise.

He was now well above Harry's head.

"Can I call you Leo?" yelled out Harry so that the dragon could hear him.

He heard the reply only in his head. The dragon was already disappearing out of sight, a white thread in the blue autumn sky.

"I shall be Leo to you, Harry Potter."

Harry smiled. The name had come to him automatically, like something out of his childhood. He was glad that the dragon knew his real name and would not get him confused with Neville.

The next step was like coming out of a dream. Harry realised that he was taking too long to complete the task. He had to move now, fast. The Polyjuice Potion would start to wear off very soon now. Someone would notice that the dragon was escaping.

He looked around for the broomstick. It was lying on the ground. Harry shouted "_Accio_ Cleansweep!" and soon he was in the air again, rushing towards the stadium. When he appeared, the crowd roared with applause. He ceased the egg with his right hand and wheeled around the stadium once before turning his broom towards the entrance of the tent. He had very little time now for that last part of the plan.


	6. Chapter 6

PART ONE

CHAPTER SIX: THE DOWNSIDE OF SUCCESS

Neville was waiting for him. He was pale and sweating.

Harry dropped to the ground and started to undress. The Polyjuice Potion was wearing off as he did so, which was making the effort of pulling off the cloak more difficult with his left arm limp as it was.

Neville was quick to notice that the cloak was thorn on the left side of the back.

"Harry, you're hurt! Why did it take so long? Where have you been? You look awful."

But Harry was already pushing Neville towards the doorway of the tent, back into the stadium. He put the broomstick in Neville left hand and the egg in the crunch of his right arm.

"Your shoulder…" said Neville, his eyes wide with concern.

"You can say it tore through the fabric but that it didn't hurt you, that's all. I'm going to clean up in Myrtle's bathroom and come back as quickly as I can. Now go!"

Harry heard the cheering from the crowd once more as Neville walked into the stadium. There were voices and noises approaching from all sides. Quickly, he slipped through an opening on the side of the champion's tent and rushed towards the castle. He didn't want to be seen running away from the stadium. He was Neville's friend therefore it would look suspicious if he was not with him to congratulate him and hear the final scores. He had to get back to the stadium as soon as possible, but he had to get cleaned up first. His face was covered in mud and filth. His shirt was thorn exactly on the same spot as Neville's cloak was. Luckily, he had anticipated this and he had smuggled some spare clothes in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. It was only going to take a minute. He had worked out a perfect plan.

There was no one in the castle. Harry climbed the stairs two by two. Then right before the Great Hall, he wheeled to the left and walked into Myrtle's bathroom, almost knocking the 'out of order' sign as he did so. A pile of clean clothes was waiting for him on the floor of one of the cubicles. Myrtle was nowhere in sight.

Harry started to pull his right arm out of the sleeve, but he stopped abruptly as he tried to pull out the other arm. A jolt of pain shot through his left shoulder, causing him to moan loudly. It was as though something was cutting through his muscles with a knife. He reached out to the back of his left shoulder with his right hand as far as he could. Then he felt it. There was a dragon's spike sticking out of his shoulder. It was short enough to be unnoticeable with the cloak on, but his shirt would not be easy to remove without first pulling out the spike. Harry leaned on the bathroom sink. The pain was so intense that he felt like he could be sick. What if he removed the spike? Would he bleed to death? The perspective of sharing a bathroom with Moaning Myrtle for the rest of his existence was not appealing at all.

Suddenly, the door of the bathroom burst opened and Harry stumbled backwards, catching the sink to avoid falling.

"I know what you did. Neville said you were hurt."

It was Ginny. She came up to him in a hurry. Her eyes immediately darted towards the spot of blood on his right hand and left shoulder blade.

"I'm alright," said Harry through clenched teeth. "Are you going to scold me for taking Neville's place? Go ahead. I'm not listening anyway."

Ginny stared at him for a moment and said nothing. He was furious for her being there and for her seeing him in such a pitiful state.

"You could have told me," she said blankly.

He didn't know why, but he had expected that she would have been angry with him. Hermione would have lectured him for sure.

"It happened very fast," replied Harry. "You weren't around."

He was trying not to move. His shoulder was really hurting him now.

"It doesn't matter. It's done now. We have to clean you up and get back out there."

"Yeah," agreed Harry. "Everyone is expecting…"

Harry couldn't finish the sentence. He had tried to move his arm out of the sleeve and the pain that had shot through his back had caused his vision to blur. He was seeing black spots. His knees were weak. He was going to pass out.

Ginny's rushed over to him, supporting him as he almost fell to the cold stone floor. It took a minute before he could steady himself, his right hand clinging to the rim of the sink. Ginny was examining his back. He felt her touch on his left shoulder blade.

"Harry, you can't move. It will make it worst. There's like a thorn in your shoulder."

She was trying to keep her voice steady, but there was lot of concern in her tone. Harry wondered if she was not shaking. He could not see her because she was standing behind him. "It's better like this," he thought. He didn't want her to see that he was in pain.

"Downside of being a Triwizard Champion," said Harry. He was trying to be sarcastic.

But Ginny clearly thought that it was not a laughing matter.

"I have to pull it out," she concluded seriously.

Harry tightened his grip on the ceramic sink, bracing himself for the worst.

"Do it quickly," he said.

He couldn't bear it anymore. He was going to be sick if it lasted a moment longer.

Ginny didn't give him any warning. As soon as he told her to do it, she removed the spike out of his shoulder blade with one sharp pull. Harry felt the wave of pain throughout his body. Hot blood was leaking down his back. He was shivering. Ginny was pressing hard on the wound with one a towel in order to stop the bleeding. Harry's knees were trembling. He was going to faint.

"Harry, talk to me," said Ginny. "Should I get Madam Pomfrey? You might have been poisoned. What should I do?" There was no despair in her voice. It didn't sound like a real question. She was just trying to make him talk to her.

Harry took a few slow long breaths. He couldn't go to the hospital wing, he just couldn't. He would be expelled, and Neville… his parents…

"Don't worry. I'm going to be fine. I just need to rest a while."

He knew that his voice must sound very weak.

"I'll take care of you," answered Ginny.

Suddenly, Harry was glad that Ginny was with him and no one else in the world. He felt safe with her. She would never tell him for doing something rash or stupid. She wasn't scolding him like Hermione. She wasn't lecturing him like his mother or father would. She was on his side. She trusted him.

"_Reducto_," said Ginny quietly.

Harry felt the cool and humid air on his back. Ginny had ripped off the shirt with her wand and was pulling the clothing aside while keeping pressure on the wound.

"I think that the worst is over," she said. "You've lost blood, but it's slowing down now. You might want to sit down."

She placed her free hand under his right arm and Harry let himself sink to the floor, supported by Ginny. All the strength and energy seemed to have drained out of him. A few minutes ago, he had been racing against a dragon, now he was barely able to lift his left arm so that Ginny could remove what was left of the shirt. The thorn fabric was sticky with blood.

"We have to go back to the stadium," Harry began to say. "Neville…"

"You're not going anywhere in that state, Harry. We'll think of something to explain our absence. Right now, you need to get your strength back."

"You can go…"

He didn't want her to go, but he was still worried about appearances and about the result too. Had he finished last? Would Neville be able to play the game?

"I'm not leaving you, Harry. Nev can do without you for a while, but I'm not sure I'll find an excuse to cover you up if you go out to meet him and faint."

"Are you going to turn me in?" asked Harry. His mind was not really working properly. A part of him already knew the answer.

"I think that you know me better than that. The next time you have another brilliant idea like this, though, come to me first.

After that, he said nothing and let Ginny take care of him. She cleaned the wound and his back with a wet towel, passed a navy t-shirt over his head, and heaved him off the floor, all within a couple of minutes. Then together they walked slowly towards the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry thought that he was never going to make it up the stairs, but every time he felt that his legs were going to give in, Ginny was there to hustle him up.

They didn't walk pass many people. Ginny kept saying loudly: "It's going to be OK, Harry. Madam Pomfrey says that a little rest will do the trick. You'll be fine in no time. Those stupid Zonko's candies…" No one asked them any questions as to what had happened. Students who ended up in the hospital wing were not always keen to reveal the cause of their injuries, most of the times because it involved something humiliating like trying to put a curse on a particularly tough pimple.

In the Common Room, two sixth years students were sitting in front of the fireplace. They were discussing Neville's _unbelievable_ flying abilities. They noticed Harry and Ginny but they paid no attention.

In the boy's dormitory, Ginny helped Harry to get in bed on his belly. She stayed a few minute at his bedside to check that the wound was no longer bleeding. The cut was visible after the blood had dried up. It had about the length of a finger and was very deep. The spike had probably moved when Harry had tried to remove his shirt.

Harry felt the sheet being pulled over his back and Ginny remove his glasses. He wanted to reach for Ginny's hand, but he was so exhausted. She said something that he did not hear. He wanted to say something back, to thank her, but before he was able to say anything he had fallen into a deep, deep sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

PART TWO

CHAPTER SEVEN: WATER AND FIRE

He was flying. Yet the wonderful feeling of freedom that he usually felt when he was on the air seemed to have been snatched away. Instead, he was filled with anguish. His chest was burning and every new breath was more difficult than the one before. He could see nothing but a silvery mist under him and moving shadows. As his sight got accustomed to the pale white light, he saw that the shadows were the slithering forms of snakes, thousands of them, following the same course that he was. Where were they going? Why was he up there and not down below with the rest of them? Something was holding him. He was not flying on his own.

The creature soared higher in the white and cloudy sky, carrying him higher and away. It wheeled to his left, changing course. He felt the wind on his face, but it was hot, much too hot. The moving outlines of the snakes were no longer visible. Monstrous claws were gripped around his chest. He couldn't move. His entire body was limp except for the sharp pain in his lungs. The creature was tightening its grasp. It felt as though the claws were cutting into his skin.

And then he fell. He was falling into the empty white sky, without a wand, and without anything to stop his plunge but the hard ground below. He tried to look back at the creature and saw the shadowy outline of the white snake-like dragon. "_Leo_," he thought. Was the dragon following him? Would he catch him? The ground was coming closer. It was bright and silver and it was undulating gently. "_Not the ground. Water_," he realised. He was powerless. He was going to die. If the fall did not kill him, then he was certain to drown. He couldn't move, least of all swim.

"Harry, hang on," said a distant voice.

The wave of water that hit him filled his lungs instantly. The cold seemed to revive his body. He started to struggle. He had to get his head out of the water. He had to find air. He had to breathe.

"Harry, calm down! I'm not trying to drown you, mate. Calm down!"

Harry's mind raced back to where he was. Even with water dripping over his eyes he could still distinguish the stone walls and the dim light of Hogwarts. A pair of hands was pulling him on his feet. He could _feel_ his feet. But when he looked down at the rest of his body, all that he could see was water up to his waist.

"Neville," he started to say, recognising the shape of the person who was holding him up. "What happened? Where are we?"

Harry felt a shiver run through his body. He was cold and wet, which was a contrast with the warmth of the water. Or was it the other way around? Perhaps he was too hot and the water too cold.

"We're in the Prefect's bathroom, Harry," explained Neville.

It was indeed the huge bathroom on the fifth floor as Harry remembered it, but there was no smell of perfumes or multicoloured bubbles. They were standing in the half-light. He could hear the water dripping slowly from his wet hair. The mermaid on the portrait hanging on the wall was not singing but seemed to be deeply asleep.

He rubbed the water off his eyes. The dragon and the white misty sky were gone. It had been a dream, just a dream. Why was he standing in the water then, wearing his pants and socks as though he had just taken a plunge? And why was _Neville_ standing in a pool with him, fully dressed as well?

Someone seemed to read his thoughts. "You had Dragon Fever, Harry. The only cure is to submerge the body in water. That's why you're in the bathtub."

Harry looked up. Ginny was on her knees, leaning on the edge of the large tub which was more like a small pool. She was wearing her nightgown and the tip of the hair was wet with humidity. She had the same look of concern on her face that she had worn on the train.

"Check his shoulder, Nev," said Ginny imperatively.

Harry realised that he was not wearing any shirt. He looked away from Ginny, feeling a bit embarrassed, and wondering just how sick he had just been.

"There's the cut," said Neville conclusively after taking a swift look at Harry's back, "but it's not as visible as it was a few minutes ago. It's started to heal I think."

Neville and Ginny both let out a sigh of relieve and exchanged a look of triumph.

"I thought you were done for, mate," said Neville happily, "but Ginny knows what she's doing."

"I was poisoned by the dragon?" said Harry, catching on. His head was becoming clearer, but he felt extremely weak and exhausted.

He started to walk towards the edge of the pool, glad to be using his legs again. Ginny handed out towels to Neville and him, and she also gave Harry back his glasses. Soon, they were sitting on the stone floor; all three of them looking wet and weary. Ginny had opened an old battered book on her lap.

"It was a Chinese Fireball," she started to explain. Then she began to read with a tone quite reminiscent of Hermione.

"_Recent studies of the Chinese Fireball's hunting techniques have determined that its dorsal spikes are highly poisonous. The poison is not lethal, however. It is merely sleep-inducing and paralysing. The unlucky victim becomes slowly unable to use his or her wounded limb and then falls into a sleep highly packed with dreams often resulting in the victim no longer recognising the dream world from reality. The side-effects of this poison also include a high fever and sporadic fainting. The only known cure is to submerge the victim's body in water, which should instantly restore the body to full health and put an end to the unsettling dreams. The mentioned side-effect, known as Dragon Fever, can last up to a few months after the body has been infected. It has been assumed that the Chinese Fireball likes to pursue its prey for a full day before making the final kill, as opposed to the Welsh Green… _blah blah blah… That's it. The rest isn't that interesting."

She turned the book around and passed it over to Harry and Neville so that they could look at the picture. Harry instantly recognised the Chinese symbols and the snake-like shape of the dragon. This was indeed the picture that he had seen. Now he wished that he had remembered the text as well.

"Water and fire are powerful elements that always cancel each other out," added Ginny, wiping the humidity off her face with a corner of Neville's towel. "If you had been in _real_ danger, I would have taken you to the hospital wing, but this was something that we could handle."

"Thanks," said Harry weakly.

"Nev stayed awake to watch over you," she continued. "We told everyone else that you ate something funny from Zonko's that made you sick during the first task. I thought that you had been poisoned but I wasn't sure so I didn't say anything. I didn't want you to freak out. I knew about Dragon Fever so I knew that you were not in any mortal danger. Nev sent Trevor to get me when everyone seemed in bed, at which point the fever had gotten really bad. We were able to sneak out with Sirius's Invisibility Cloak."

The words echoed in Harry's head. Had Ginny said _Sirius's_ Invisibility Cloak?

"You didn't look well, mate," said Neville while he was drying his hair with the towel.

"Percy always lets me know the password to the Prefect's bathroom," added Ginny. "It wasn't easy to drag you here under the Invisibility Cloak. You were really out of it so Nev went into the pool as well so that you wouldn't drown."

"Thanks, guys. I appreciate it," said Harry sincerely.

Neville was only half-smiling and said no reply. He looked quite exhausted. Harry was really grateful, but he didn't want to tell them the whole story just yet therefore he was glad that Neville and Ginny were not asking too many questions. The dragon's picture was haunting him. It looked exactly like Leo. Had the dragon only been toying with him then? If so, then he should be dead now. He doubted that it could take a dragon very long to devour a human. But what did he know about dragons really besides the fact that they could understand Parselmouth? Had anyone _else_ ever spoken to a dragon before?

He felt a second warm and downy towel being laid on his shoulders. Ginny was kneeling before him. She placed her right hand on his forehead, feeling his temperature. Harry allowed himself to close his eyes for a moment. He was still shivering uncontrollably with cold although the room was very hot and humid. It seemed like he had travelled a long way in a few hours. He had so many questions to ask, like who had won the first task, but the words were not coming out right now. He was still feverish and his upper back was aching on the left side. Ginny was touching his face. Strangely, nothing else seemed to matter but the present. He could have stayed lost in this moment forever.

"It should have been me," said Neville in a quiet and thoughtful voice.

Quickly, Ginny stepped away from Harry. Before he could realise it, they were sitting in circle again, all three of them. Neville was tucking his knees with both of his arms. He looked rather miserable, but at least he did not appear to have noticed the short moment that Harry had shared with Ginny.

"I chose to do the task instead of you," said Harry, staring at his feet and twisting the water off his socks. "It's not your fault that I got hurt. I was stupid to let it get me."

"No, you weren't. You weren't stupid. You were terrific. You're brave, like a real Gryffindor should be. I wasn't… I'm not…" His voice trailed off. "The Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin," he finally said after a deep breath.

He had said the last sentence quickly as though he was afraid of how his two friends might react. His voice was trembling. Harry saw that Neville was shivering as well, but probably for another reason entirely. Ginny was glancing from Harry to Neville, apparently at a lost for words. Harry didn't know how to reply. He had thought that this was a new Neville, sure of him, not fearless, but outspoken and full of activity, like Mr and Mrs Longbottom were. In truth, Harry realised, Neville was a lot like him. All the teachers and all the students were always expecting more of him. Harry too had been reluctant to assume his role as school champion, and now Neville had almost ended up in Slytherin House, just like Harry had.

"Me too," said Harry thoughtfully.

"Huh?" inquired Ginny and Neville in unison.

"The Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin as well," offered Harry. "It didn't because I asked it not to."

"So did I!" Neville said in wonder.

"Then we're both exactly in the house that we should be," concluded Harry.

Neville looked at him brightly.

"You're right," he said. "I guess I'm mad at myself for being such a…"

Ginny didn't let him finish the sentence.

"Nev, cheer up. There's still the second task. You'll do it this time, and you'll be great. You're not as worthless as you think, and I'm not going to spend the remaining of the night trying to convince you of that. You saved Harry's life more than once already and that's saying something. Can we get back to bed now?"

"_Ginny has done it again_," thought Harry admiringly. In a few minutes, she had managed to put a smile back on everyone's face. Harry vaguely wondered what would have happened if Ginny had not been his friend in this new reality.

Such were Harry's thoughts as the three friends made their way along the dark corridors under the Invisibility Cloak. Ginny was fighting the urge to yawn loudly. Neville looked happy but nervous at being out of bed against school regulations. It was well into the night when they got back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry felt completely drained and he could hardly keep his eyes opened. Ginny said a quick "Good night" and disappeared into the girl's dormitory as soon as they had stepped through the portrait hole.

They were slipping under their bed sheets when Harry remembered to ask Neville a very important question.

"What was the score for the first task?"

There was a silence.

"You took very long… What were you going, anyway?" asked Neville uneasily.

"I'll tell you tomorrow. Who won?"

"Krum. Fleur is second."

Harry let the news sink in. When he had decided to take Neville's place, he had not expected to finish last. Now that he was thinking about it, he couldn't believe that he had not thought more seriously about the possible outcome.

"I'm sorry, Neville," he said quietly.

But Neville's slow breathing was the only reply.


	8. Chapter 8

PART TWO

CHAPTER EIGHT: SIDE-EFFECTS

The next morning, Harry had to fight a group of giggling third year girls so that Neville and he could make it to the Great Hall for breakfast, or, as Eleanor pointed out, for early lunch. It was almost noon when they finally left the Common Room. The attempt at a surprise party of the night before seemed to have been forgotten. Instead, the Great Hall exploded with applause as soon as Neville walked in. Harry helped him make his way to the Gryffindor table, which took a good twenty minutes as Neville was shaking every hand that was presented to him by cheerful supporters. Ginny tried to join them as soon as she saw them walk in, but there were quite a few shoulders to nudge along the way. At last, she decided to wait for them at the Gryffindor table instead.

"Everyone is mental," she said as Harry and Neville sat down besides her. She was helping herself to some strawberries.

"I know," said Neville through clenched teeth and an overlarge smile as the Creevy brothers were taking a picture of him.

It was almost lunchtime and the Hall was nearly full of students, including the ones from Beaubatons and Durmstrang.

"Everyone's asking me if I'll be playing Quidditch next year," said Neville hopelessly. "You can bet that my parents will give me a broomstick for Christmas." Then he leaned closer to Harry and Ginny. "Imagine the look on everyone's faces if they learned that it was actually _you_ flying that broom, Harry. Everyone's convinced that you _hate_ Quidditch."

"I _don't_ _hate_ Quidditch," replied Harry. The popular idea that he hated Quidditch was really starting to get on his nerves. "I don't think it's a stupid sport or anything like that."

"We know you don't," said Ginny quickly. "It's a shame that you don't want to play, though. You'd be a great Seeker. But I can understand that you don't want to be compared to your dad all the time. I heard Professor McGonnagal saying that he was a spectacular player."

"Well he was a bit of a show off when he was at school," said Harry bitterly as a memory of what he had once seen in Dumbledore's Pensive flashed through his mind.

"I don't care if he was the greatest Seeker in the world, Harry, but your dad never had to dodge fireballs," retorted Neville proudly.

When he said that, Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell, who were sitting nearby, started to clap loudly and another uproar of applause followed.

Neville looked at Harry apologetically and muttered "sorry" under his breath. "I meant it as a compliment, mate," he added quietly so that only Harry and Ginny could hear.

Harry was about to say out loud that he might try out for Quidditch Seeker next year when he caught the sight of Ron and Hermione coming into the Great Hall. They were walking up the Gryffindor table, and they were (Harry gasped) holding hands.

"See what I mean?" said Ginny, seeing the look of total shock on Harry's face. She followed her brother and Hermione with her glance. "Everyone's mental. It's like all the fourth year students and up want to be dating someone before Christmas. You'd think there's a deadline or something."

Harry looked around, following Ginny's gaze around the Great Hall. Cedric Diggory was talking close to Cho Chang's ear. Harry's stomach gave a jolt. He could not bear to look at Cedric, knowing what might happen to him if he could turn the events around. It wasn't surprising to Harry to see Cedric and Cho sitting so close to each other, of course, but there were more couples like this in the Hall. A group of seventh year Slytherin boys was sitting with the Beaubatons' girls. Harry saw the Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, Marcus Flint, leave the group with a tall blond girl who was talking fast in French. He was holding her cat awkwardly with his right arm but he seemed quite happy with his situation. Percy and Peneloppe Clearwater were kissing restlessly at the end of the Gryffindor table over two cups of fuming hot chocolate. A few more couples could be seen holding hands. A very shy Durmstrang boy was sitting close to Pavarti Patil and trying to pronounce her name properly. Lavender Brown was laughing loudly as a Ravenclaw boy that Harry didn't know was tickling her nose with a quill.

Harry's gaze darted back to Ron and Hermione. They were sitting apart from the other Gryffindors. Hermione was trying to study and Ron kept closing the book that she was reading. Far from making her angry, she seemed to find Ron's interruptions quite funny and kept throwing her head back with laughter.

"You're right, Gin. Everyone _has_ gone mental," said Neville dreamily. "It must be the Christmas spirit. Sometimes they get out of hands."

Harry was speechless. He was aware that Ron and Hermione had a thing for each other. All their bickering had to mean something, anyway. However, he had never imagined that their relationship would end up in them _dating_.

"Don't you find it kind of strange? He's my brother," said Ginny with the same dreamy expression, "which means that Hermione could become my sister-in-law one day. I like her, but it's still strange." She brought her attention back to the strawberries, but pushed the bowl away. Apparently, she had lost her appetite. "Any idea what it's all about?" she asked.

The answer suddenly burst in Harry's head, but this wasn't how he remembered the students had found out about the ball. Something was different in the course of events again.

"Maybe Fred and George added a few drops of love potion to our morning tea," offered Neville. He was still staring dreamily at Ron and Hermione.

"It's not a love potion, Nev," someone behind them retorted.

Harry did not need to look around to know that it was Neville's sister speaking.

"It's the _Yule Ball_," she added with an annoying know-it-all tone.

In fact, Harry was finding that Eleanor was annoying him a lot with her self-confidence and constant sniggering comments. She was probably enjoying Neville's status as Triwizard champion more so than Neville was. There had been three articles written about her in the Daily Prophet so far.

"A ball? When is it?" asked Ginny, suddenly interested by what Eleanor had to say.

Harry had forgotten to fake surprise. He knew about the upcoming Yule Ball, of course, but he wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to live it again.

"It's on Christmas Eve. Honestly, where have you been, Gin? The whole school knows. Your dad made the announcement this morning, Harry. I think that the other teachers wanted to wait a bit, but anyway the news is out now."

She glanced over at the staff table. Harry turned around to look as well. His father was sitting with a cup of tea and eyeing the behaviour of the students in the Great Hall with a great self-satisfied expression. Snape was present as well, helping himself to some coffee, and Harry could tell by the look on his face that, contrary to James Potter, the grim-looking Potions master was not at all happy with the idea of students snuggling and kissing in the Great Hall.

"It's only for the fourth years and up," said Eleanor with the same contemptuous expression on her face. "You're taking me, Nev. Mom will want you to. Otherwise I won't be allowed."

And with that last comment, Eleanor turned her heels towards her usual group of Ravenclaw second year girls and they left the Great Hall with a few admiring back glances at Neville.

"What a little brat, that one," snorted Ginny. "I'm sure your mom will want you to go with whoever you want, Nev," she added hopefully.

"It's no use," said Neville resolutely. "Eleanor will never let me forget it if I don't take her."

Harry and Ginny exchanged a glance. Both of them were quite reluctant to expose their views on Neville's sister.

"It's OK, guys," said Neville, seeing how uncomfortable they had become. "Eleanor is my sister and I don't mind taking her. I learned how to dance with her so at least I don't have to worry about that."

They did not talk anymore about the Yule Ball while they ate lunch, except when one of Ginny's friends came to ask her if she was planning on going with Neville. Apparently, the request was coming from a whole group of Hufflepuff girls who were standing just outside the Great Hall, waiting for an answer. Ginny started to laugh very loudly. In fact, she was laughing so hard that she was unable to give a clear reply. The young girl lost patience after a few awkward minutes and then she left the Hall in a hurry.

They spent the afternoon on the school ground, strolling under the first snow flakes. They were not the only students outside, but they eventually found a spot where they could talk freely about the first task and Harry was able to relate to them what had exactly happened.

"You heard a dragon speak inside your head?" said Neville, incredulous.

Harry merely shrugged as though he couldn't explain it either.

He was absent-mindedly throwing pebbles into the Black Lake. Neville and Ginny were sitting on a long flat rock. Harry was remembering with a certain nostalgia having shared that spot with Ron, Hermione and Hagrid on the day of Buckbeak's hearing. His pebbles did not quite ricochet as far as Hagrid's had.

"_Leo_? Where did you get that name from?" asked Ginny.

"I don't know. First thing that came through my mind."

Harry had not told them yet that he could talk to snakes. He had made it sound like he had heard both creatures in his head. As he did not know the full story of how the events in the Chamber of Secrets had turned out, he was not sure how his friends would react if he said anything about being a Parselmouth.

"Charlie told me that the dragon disappeared," continued Ginny. "Your friend Leo really did get his freedom after all. "

Harry only half smiled at Ginny's comment. The memory of the pain in his shoulder was enough to make him wish that it had been his final encounter with the dragon. Yet he had felt sad as he had watched Leo fly away.

"I reckon you should tell someone," said Neville, "about… stuff."

Harry turned around. He didn't like the idea of going to a teacher. The thought of anyone finding out that he did not belong in this reality was starting to give him nightmares, in addition to the memory of the night of Voldemort's return and the persisting Dragon Fever. Perhaps the lack of sleep was affecting his nerves, but he was loosing his patience rather more rapidly than usual.

"What _stuff_, Neville? How's _your_ scar doing?" Harry replied angrily, rubbing his shoulder as he did so. He could still feel a stinging where the dragon's spike had cut his flesh. "Dragon Fever is just temporary, OK? It's nothing to worry about. It's not like I'm permanently cursed or anything, Neville. I'm just normal."

"You hear voices and you have funny dreams. It's just weird, Harry. And you call me Neville all the time. Nobody calls me _Neville_. And my scar doesn't hurt or anything. It's just a stupid scratch. I wish that there were some special magic powers attached to it, but there aren't. I wish that I was permanently cursed, but I'm not. Everyone thinks I'm so special, well that's my real curse."

Neville was speaking somewhat louder than usual. His cheeks had gone suddenly blushed with pink and his eyes were narrowed. Harry opened his month to argue about the so-called curse, but he was stopped abruptly by Ginny.

"Oh shut up, both of you!" she said with furious glances at both Harry and Neville. "Listen to you, bickering like an old married couple. I won't let you get into a fight and stop talking to each other. Look at what it did to Lupin and your dad, Harry."

There was a silence during which Neville and Harry stared miserably at their feet. Four years of going to Hogwarts with Neville flashed through Harry's mind. He could not believe that he was having an argument with him over something so trivial.

"Sorry, mate," Neville said at last. "I suppose I'm a bit distraught."

"Me too," said Harry. "Dragon Fever, you know."

Ginny seemed satisfied with the outcome because she went to sit down on the long rock beside Neville again.

"So… err… did the snake say what it wanted me for?" asked Neville off-handily.

Harry was relieved. At least, he wouldn't have to lie about being a Parselmonth.

"It didn't say," he replied as he was sitting down on the rock as well.

The three of them remained silent for a while, staring thoughtfully at the Black Lake.

"You-Know-Who wants me then," concluded Neville after a while. "He wants me alive, but why?"

Harry did not reply. Of course he knew that Voldemort wanted Neville's blood to complete the ritual that would bring him back to life, but somehow Harry felt that Neville did not need to know that yet.

"Don't worry, Nev," said Ginny. She placed a comforting hand on Neville's shoulder. "We'll watch your back."

Harry said nothing and continued to stare blankly at the lake. In his mind, he had begun to realise that Voldemort was growing stronger and that it was happening a lot faster this time around. Whoever was helping him, whether it was Barty Crouch Junior or Wormtail or someone else, that person would not wait for the third task. Neville was not safe and he, Harry, was the only person that could protect him. After all, how could he possibly explain to anyone, his parents or even Dumbledore that he knew so accurately what Voldemort's plans were? The best he could do, at the moment, was to keep Neville safe for as long as possible, until he figured out how to stop the most feared Dark Wizard of all times to return to his power.

"So what about that Yule Ball," offered Ginny casually as they were heading back to the castle, "do you reckon Hagrid is going to dance with Madam Maxime?"

And they laughed all the way back to the Common Room, imagining all kinds of most unexpected couples, including Draco Malfoy with Moaning Myrtle.


	9. Chapter 9

PART TWO

CHAPTER NINE: SNOW FALLS ON HOGWARTS

It took Professor McGonnagal several minutes before she could get the Gryffindor fourth to seventh year students to settle down. She had separated the group in two; girls on one side and boys on the other. A huge gramophone had been brought into the Great Hall for the occasion.

"The Yule Ball," she started to say quite solemnly, "has been a Triwizard tradition ever since…"

Harry wasn't listening. He knew the speech by heart. He had heard it before. He looked around the room and his eyes fell on Hermione. She was talking to Pavarti and Lavender and seemed to be describing her dress. Everyone in the room seemed to have the same sort of exited comment about the upcoming ball. Ever since the announcement, Harry's mind had the tendency to go back to Cho and Cedric talking in the Great Hall, Ron and Hermione holding hands. He wished that he could be as happy, with not a care in the world. He was trying hard not to think about the second task, not just yet.

"You do have a date already, don't you?" Harry asked Ron casually.

Ron's ears became quite red.

"Well I suppose I ought to go with Hermione," he said flatly, "but I haven't asked her yet. I mean, we're dating already, but I think she expects that I will… I don't know… get down on my knee of something."

Harry could not help but grin broadly at the thought of Ron kneeling in front of Hermione, asking her hand in marriage. It seems so far-fetched.

"Granger, my love, my sweet _Hermie_," said Fred, kneeling theatrically in front of George.

"Yes, _Ronnie_, my darling, my little squirrel," added George in a high-pitched voice.

"Will you marry me?" asked Fred, taking George's hand and stroking it.

"Yes I will, my darling!"

And George threw himself in Fred's arms and the whole group of Gryffindor boys burst out laughing. Harry saw Ron mutter to him and cross him arms over his chest grimly, which only made Harry laugh harder.

"Mr Potter," said McGonnagal loudly to draw everyone's attention back to the matter at hand. "Join me, please."

Harry got up reluctantly. His feet were suddenly like lead. Someone whistled as he was putting his right hand on Professor McGonnagal's waist. The music began to play and Harry started to count in his mind "ONE-two-three, ONE-two-three" repeatedly.

"Very good, Potter," said McGonnagal. "You've done this before. Now, everyone, please find a partner."

Before he could realise it, Harry was pushed into the group of girls and found himself holding the waist of Pavarti Patil. The next hour was a long series of ONE-two-three punctured by the occasional swearing caused by uncontrolled feet.

Harry, along with the rest of the Gryffindor boys, was quite relieved when the hour of practice was over. On the way back to the Great Hall, they crossed a group of Ravenclaw. They had also just had a dancing lesson, apparently. A tall and black-haired Ravenclaw seventh year boy that Harry knew to be called Roger was telling the tale of how he had asked Fleur Delacour to the ball.

"She said _yes_, obviously," he said quite evidently. "So you can understand that I take these dancing lessons very seriously."

"Excuse me," said a girl's voice beside Harry.

He had just bumped into Cho Chang. They were standing shoulder to shoulder. Cho looked down, blushing slightly. The corridor leading to the Great Hall was packed with students arriving from all sides. They were completely surrendered by a group of Hufflepuff boys.

"Sorry," said Harry to Cho's attention. "It's one of those crazy days."

"I'm glad that someone else thinks that," replied Cho with a small smile.

Harry was uncomfortable in the crowd. He felt feverish again. Or maybe it was the presence of Cho? He couldn't tell. He could picture her in the dress that she had worn at the Yule Ball. In his opinion, she had been the prettiest, followed closely by Hermione. Perhaps this was his chance to invite her this time. He was trying hard to convince himself that she was not going with Cedric Diggory again.

"Are you… err… going to the ball with anyone?" he asked casually, looking straight in front of him.

"I'm going with Cedric Diggory," she replied. "You?"

Harry merely shrugged.

His heart sank. Cedric was not a Triwizard champion, not this time. He couldn't figure out why Cho was going with him. Had Cedric asked her that day in the Great Hall, the day that the Yule Ball had been announced? Had Cedric and Cho been together for longer than that?

They said nothing else as they walked into the Great Hall. He lost sight of Cho when she caught up with a group of Ravenclaw girls. With a sigh of relief, Harry joined Neville at the Gryffindor table. His thoughts were still on Cho. "_Why_?" he kept asking himself. "_This is supposed to be my perfect life_."

"You look pale, mate," said Neville as Harry sat down and poured himself a large glass of water.

"I'm trying to cut back on the time spent in the shower," said Harry quietly so that only Neville could hear.

Harry drank the water all at once and felt a little better. He was feeling the effects of the Dragon Fever even though a full month had passed. Water was still the best cure. Most of the time, he ended up in the shower once or twice during the day.

"Whazzup, Harry," said a voice behind him. Someone that he had not seen coming suddenly sat besides him. Neville moved a bit to make room. The other students were just staring.

"Sirius! What are you doing here?"

Sirius was already digging in the sandwiches and veggies. He looked perfectly at ease among the young Gryffindors students.

"So, Harry, did you ask her to the ball yet?" Sirius said without any preamble or explanation as to why he was at Hogwarts.

"Who?" Harry asked at once.

"The girl that you were looking for at the Quidditch World Cup."

Then Harry remembered. Sirius had whisper something to him during the match, a question about a girl. Harry had just assumed that Sirius had meant Cho Chang. Was there anyone else?

"You've got to ask her sometime soon," said Neville, joining in the conversation.

"_Who_?" Harry asked again. He was getting irritated now.

At that moment, Ginny appeared next to Sirius. As soon as she saw Sirius, her face lit up in a large smile.

"Sirius! How are you? It's so good to see you," she said happily as she sat opposite Harry and Neville. "What are you doing here?"

"The usual. Investigation. Hogsmead," said Sirius mysteriously.

Harry could easily tell that the other students were deeply impressed by the presence of Sirius Black. He was a tall and charismatic man with dark wavy hair and an overall look of carelessness. At the moment, he was wearing a long black jacket that reminded Harry of some hero out of an action movie. Not only was he very handsome, but he was also a well-known dark wizard catcher as far as Harry could tell.

"Oh good _heavens_!" said Angelina Johnson as she was passing by. She had evidently recognised Sirius. "I can't believe… I'm a real fan of your work." She extended her hand to Sirius who shook it in a very gentlemanly fashion.

"You're Sirius Black, the Auror?" said Seamus Finnigan, catching on. He was sitting nearby with Dean Thomas. "I've read about you in the _Daily Prophet_."

Dean nudged him on the shoulder. "Yes of course he is. There's an article about him about every week in the _Prophet_, mate. Try to keep up, will you?"

Sirius winked at Neville.

"You see, Nev, you're not famous as me," he said encouragingly.

At these words, Harry's forehead burst out with pain. It had burned like this before, but it was getting stronger every time now. He shifted uncomfortably on his seat, turning away from his godfather as he did so.

"Are you OK, Harry?" asked Sirius.

Ginny too seemed to have noticed his sudden distress. Harry half expected Neville to say something awkward, but Ginny was quicker to react. She quickly diverted the conversation to another topic, drawing the attention to herself by leaning closer to Sirius across the table.

"You will be glad to know," Ginny said to Sirius with the same mysterious tone that he had used earlier, "that we've made good use again of the special Christmas present you gave Harry in his first year."

Sirius grinned broadly at Ginny and seemed to forget quickly to inquire about Harry's well-being. Harry took this opportunity to flatten his fringe and drink another full glass of water.

"Is that so?" Sirius said maliciously. "You haven't by any chance broken any school rules, have you?"

Neville and Ginny exchanged a conspiring smile. "Of course we did," said Ginny quietly.

Sirius burst out laughing, clapping Harry on the back as he did so. The deep cut on Harry's left shoulder blade seared painfully, but Sirius did not see the sudden look of strain on his nephew's face. Ginny looked at Harry apologetically, but he shook his head to tell her not to say anything. She returned her attention to Sirius rather reluctantly.

Sirius stayed almost an hour sitting with them and talking merrily. He told them a funny story about how Harry's dad and he had transfigured all the school clocks into paintings, thus causing the cancellation of all classes to allow the teachers to search the school for the missing clocks. The clocks had all turned out to be funny pictures of Snape wearing all sorts of bizarre clothing, including a nightgown complete with a bonnet and bunny slippers.

After that, Sirius went to sit at the staff table where he and James Potter lowered their heads together into a long and serious conversation. Severus Snape made a short appearance in the Great Hall, but when he saw Sirius Black and James Potter sitting together, he turned his heels and left, visibly fuming.

Later that very same day, the fourth years had a study session in the Great Hall during which Fred asked Angelina Johnson to the ball, proving Harry that he was definitely in trouble since he had not asked anyone yet. Harry was coming out of the Great Hall after that period when Sirius caught up with him again.

"I've asked Ginny to send out an owl for me," said Sirius conspiringly to Harry's ear as he was dragging him away from the Great Hall. "You go to the owlery pretending to be checking on Paris, and you ask her to the ball. Get it?"

"But…" Harry started to say.

"You like this girl, Harry. Nev told me, and it's all over your face too. Now is the time to get a move on."

Seconds later, Harry was striding on the fresh snow, cold to his bones as he did not have his cloak, and walking towards the owlery with no idea as to why on earth he was supposed to ask Ginny to the ball. Well, he had thought of asking her, but he had dismissed the idea after he had remembered that Ginny was Ron's sister. He couldn't go with his best friend's sister. It was simply too odd. Besides, Ginny was his friend. It would be like going to the ball with Hermione.

Ginny Weasley was walking down the stairs of the tower when he saw her. She had snow in her hair and was wearing a dark burgundy woollen coat that her mother had probably made.

"Harry," she said in surprise, "you look positively frozen. Sirius asked me to send out a letter for him. I used Paris. I hope you don't mind."

"No," said Harry, "I was coming to check on him, that's all."

She grinned.

"Without a coat? You're not that found of Paris. What's up? Were you looking for me?"

Harry shrugged innocently. His mind was looking for the words that he was supposed to say.

"I saw your face in the Great Hall with Sirius. Your head was hurting again," she said purposely. "You know you can talk to me. Go ahead."

All that Harry could do was stare. He had never seen Ginny in this light before, as someone that he could confide in. Yet there she was, offering to hear whatever he had to say.

"I think it's a warning," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking down at his feet. "Danger is coming."

"Voldemort wants to capture Nev," she said. "Is that what it's all about? It's worrying you a lot, isn't it?"

A million things rushed into Harry's mind. Suddenly, he wanted to tell her everything, just because she had used Voldemort's name and not that annoying expression everyone else used. He wanted to tell her that Voldemort was becoming stronger, that he did not think that the tournament would end without someone dying, that his parents were not supposed to be alive, that his hurting was not a delusion but the effects of a lightning scar that Neville should not have.

He remained motionless. He was only two steps lower than where Ginny was standing but he felt such a distance between them. He could not help but think that this was not the same Ginny as the one he had always known. Or was it? Was she really different? And how different was _he_? What if Ginny liked the other Harry, the person he had been before? What did she really think of him now? He had to find out.

"Harry, what is it? You've been carrying this forever. Why don't you just tell me?"

"You know Neville's scar?" he started to say, looking up to her for a short moment and staring at his feet again. "It's like I have it. Not Neville. _Me_. I can… feel it. How weird is that?"

She seemed to think for a few seconds, and then she started down the stairs again, saying nothing as she went pass him. Harry waited a bit to follow her. He was aware that what he had just said would not make any sense to her. When he caught up with her, she was staring straight ahead. Her eyes were unfocused as though she was in deep thoughts.

"It would explain a lot of things," she finally said.

"What do you mean?"

"Your father's over-protective attitude, the fact that you can speak Parseltongue, the way that the Dementors affect you; it's all linking back to Voldemort and that night that he disappeared."

"You don't think I'm cracking up?" asked Harry quickly. It seemed almost impossible that Ginny would believe him.

"No, I don't think that, Harry. You're definitely weird, but you're not crazy. Think about this, though. The scar, it could mean that Voldemort tried to kill you thirteen years ago, not Neville," she said darkly. "It's very serious. It means that Neville is being used as a decoy. Not many people must know. I bet that Sirius doesn't even know."

"You don't think that my parents would have let Sirius in on the secret?" asked Harry indignantly, thinking about how Sirius had yelled that he would rather die than betray his friends.

"I just don't think that Sirius would have given you the Invisibility Cloak if he had known. He likes to think that you're like your father, but he wouldn't want to put you in danger. Incidentally, someone thought that you were crucial enough to need this kind of protection. I'm guessing that it's probably your parents and Dumbledore, and no one else. It's just too important."

"I don't think that my parents would have agreed to put Neville in any kind of danger, though," Harry pointed out.

Ginny merely shrugged and continued her walk towards the bottom of the stairs.

However, and regardless of that last comment, Harry did think that the story was making a lot of sense. He had wished for a normal life when he had enunciated the spell, what he had now was the _appearance_ of a normal life. Perhaps he was as he had always been. Perhaps it was only the people around him who had changed. It would explain why he felt the lightening scar even though it was not visible.

He was wondering vaguely what other elements of his life would turn out the opposite of what he had wished for when he noticed that Ginny was now a few paces away from the tower and walking slowly towards the castle. Could it be possible that of all the people that he knew, even his parents, she was the only one who did not think that his behaviour was not attention seeking? He was not even sure that Neville would believe him. A part of him seemed to be saying that Ginny was more than just like Neville.

Presently, she was glaring back at him.

"Harry, come on! You're freezing. What are you waiting for?"

He ran quickly up to where she was, hands still in his pockets. The tip of his nose was stinging with cold now, and his toes were definitely frozen.

"You'll be alright," she said as he came to level with her. "With your parents and Dumbledore around, neither you nor Neville are in any real danger."

"It's not that," replied Harry, shaking his head.

"What is it, then?"

Harry took a deep breath.

"Are you going to the ball with anyone?" he said a little faster than what he had intended.

He felt his heart racing.

"No. Why? Are you asking me?"

"Yes," he said timidly.

"About time," she answered with a half-smile

"I mean, we can go as friends, right?"

She seemed to ponder the idea.

"Sure. As friends."

Together, they walked back to the castle. Large snowflakes were falling on their heads. As he was walking with Ginny, Harry was becoming quite convinced that he would have a terrific time at the Yule Ball this time around. After the ball, he'd concentrate on stopping Voldemort's return, but only after the ball. Right now, he was just going to enjoy himself.


	10. Chapter 10

PART TWO

CHAPTER TEN: THE NIGHT OF THE YULE BALL

"There you go, your new dress robes. I also brought your old ones in case these don't fit," said Harry's mother.

She was sitting on top of his bed in the dormitory with a large parcel on her lap. She pulled out a long black cloak from softly folded paper wrapping and held it upright in front of him. It was the same nice dress robes that Mrs Weasley had bought for him in Diagon Alley the last time.

"Do you like them?" she asked.

"They're nice," said Harry with a large grin on his face. In his mind, anything that his mother was giving him was the most beautiful thing in the world.

"I promise that I won't bother you or watch you too closely or anything like that," she said hurriedly. "I'm just coming to spend some time with your father."

Harry couldn't help but smile at her fondly. It was the third time ever since she had arrived that she making this comment about her presence at the ball.

"It's _fine_, mom," he said with his best tone of approval.

He was actually glad that his mother would be spending Christmas at Hogwarts. It seemed like his father was avoiding him ever since the first Defence Against the Dark Arts class where he had killed the Boggart. Or perhaps it was the other way around? Had he, Harry, been avoiding his father? He wasn't sure. So far, his relationship with his father consisted only in awkward moments.

"Sirius and Audrey will be joining us as well," continued his mother. Audrey has been telling me about her dress for weeks," she added with an exasperated sigh.

"Hi, Mrs Potter!"

It was Neville. He looked very disturbed about something and almost dropped Trevor as he tripped over a parcel on the floor.

"Sorry, Nev," said Lily Potter. "I got carried away and bought Harry too many clothes again."

"It's OK," said Neville, catching Trevor and putting the toad on the box besides his bed.

"Harry," he said nervously, "Ginny wants me to tell you that she's not going to the ball with you anymore."

Neville had said the phrase quickly. He was now avoiding Harry's wide-eyed stare.

"Did she say why?" asked Mrs Potter when she saw that Harry was not having any reaction.

"I don't know. Girl's stuff. Something's wrong with her dress," said Neville. He seemed quite put off by this turn of events.

Lily Potter, however, seemed to understand something that the two boys had not grasped. She dumped the parcel on Harry's bed and picked up her handbag. She was suddenly full of activity. There was light in her eyes. Harry thought fondly that he liked her eyes best and also her smile.

"Boys, this is something for me to handle. Forget that thing about Ginny not going to the ball with you anymore, Harry. Everything shall be under control in a few minutes, I promise."

And with a quick kiss on his forehead, she stormed out of the room.

"Your mom is awesome," said Neville, sitting besides Harry.

Harry's thoughts dwelled on Ron's dress robes that were hidden under Ron's bed. Then he remembered that Ginny had also worn a dress that looked like it came from thirty years ago, which was probably the case as Mr and Mrs Weasley could not afford new robes for their five children currently attending Hogwarts. Not only did Harry have new dress robes, but he had two sets now.

At the precise moment that the idea came to his mind, Ron Weasley walked in the Common Room. He looked particularly put off.

"I shouldn't have asked her. Hermione is going to kill me when she sees what I'm wearing to the ball," he said, slumping unto his bed. "What? What are you two grinning at?"

"Ron, what size do you wear?" said Harry matter-of-factly.

In Harry's mind, the look on Ron's face when he saw himself in the mirror, a few days later, wearing proper black and white dress robes, was priceless. Harry had had to lend Ron the new dress robes because his friend was slightly taller, but his old set of robes still fitted Harry almost perfectly, and his mom had not objected to the change of plans. In fact, she had smiled at Harry in such a way that he had felt his cheeks going slightly red. Harry only wished that his father would be as proud of him as she was.

Ron, Neville and Harry walked down the staircases towards the Great Hall together, talking excitedly and laughing a little harder than they would normally have. Eleanor came rapidly to hold Neville's arm. She looked quite lovely in a navy blue dress laced in her back. Her hair was tied up with a sparkling tiara. She also looked a little older than she was, which, Harry realised, was probably her intention as she was the only second year students attending. She looked rather small and childish besides the Beaubatons young ladies and the proud Durmstrang boys.

Harry looked around. Hermione was coming down the stairs. She looked positively radiant in her fluffy pink dress, just like she had the last time. Ron's expression was one of outmost admiration. He offered his arm to her in a very gentlemanly fashion that was reminding Harry of Sirius's manners. Ron had most probably practiced the gesture before the ball, and Harry also suspected Sirius to have helped him. They started to make their way towards the Great Hall together to join the other fourth years. Ron mumbled something about Ginny not being ready yet.

The champions were gathering near the doorway as Professor McGonnagal was explaining to them the formalities of the Yule Ball. Eleanor looked really nervous. Fleur Delacour kept throwing her a look of outmost disapproval. "She eez too young," Harry heard Fleur comment to Professor McGonnagal. Viktor Krum, for his part, looked very content with his date even though it was not Hermione. It was actually a girl that Harry had never seen before. She was not very tall and had wavy brown hair down to the middle of her back. She wore a simple black dress and no jewellery.

"Who's that girl with Viktor Krum?" asked Harry to Dean and Pavarti.

"That's… I don't believe it!" said Dean in a surprised gasp. "That's Elissa Lord!"

"Who's Elissa Lord?" asked Harry blankly.

"Right. I forget that you don't like Quidditch."

Harry felt his temper rising at once but kept his month shut.

"Elissa Lord is Seeker for the Quidditch Canadian team. She's their new star, but she's Muggle-born. Can you believe it?"

"I don't think that being a good Quidditch player is a question of blood, Dean," said Harry irritably.

"I haven't said that at all, Harry," said Dean quickly. "I only mean, can you believe that she's with Viktor Krum, a _Durmstrang_? Rumour has it that Karkarov doesn't like Muggle-borns. They have a tendency to be expelled from Durmstrang rather rapidly. Get it?"

Harry's glance fell on Karkarov. He was indeed eyeing the young Elissa Lord with an expression of almost disgust. Harry wondered if Karkarov had had the same expression on his face when he had seen Hermione. Harry had never noticed it because he had been with the champions at that moment. Suddenly, he was aware that his new situation was giving him a whole new perspective on the ball.

"Here's your date, Harry," said Pavarti.

Harry turned around. Ginny was on top of the stairs and coming down carefully. All of the sudden, Harry's heart seemed to burst out of his chest.

She was wearing a long dark green dress that was trailing behind her as she walked. The sleeves were wide and opened up down to her knees. There was a golden belt at the level of her waist. She looked like a princess out of a medieval story. This was definitely not the dress that she had worn the first time, but Harry didn't care.

"It's a bit big," Ginny said, seeing the look of bewilderment on his face. She was flattening the front of her dress nervously.

"I think it's lovely," said Harry fondly.

"It's your mom's," replied Ginny. There was light on her face.

Harry took her arm under his and said timidly "you look amazing" to Ginny's ear.

The opening of the Yule Ball was exactly as he remembered it, except for the people present. At first glance, he spotted Sirius and Audrey among the teachers. Audrey looked splendid in a white and silver dress with her blond tresses pinned up sparingly. Sirius was looking more handsome than ever. Harry's parents were there as well, beaming. There was like a glow around them and Harry thought fondly that no other couple looked happier. Lily Potter was wearing a deep red dress with a really bright necklace that was sparkling like diamonds.

When the music began to play, Harry couldn't wait to dance with Ginny. After the champions had swirled twice around the dance floor, he took her hand and urged her into the center of the Hall. He could tell that she was really nervous, but a quick glance from Neville and Eleanor were enough to make her feel more comfortable.

Overall, Harry enjoyed himself a lot more at the Yule Ball this time around. Ginny and he could not stop dancing. The Weird Sisters showed up at about half pass nine and then the party just got even more fun, if that was possible. He spent the entire evening with Ron, Hermione, Neville and Ginny. In his mind, there was any other care in the world apart from what the next song was going to be. It was simply perfect.

It was nearly midnight when they finally left the dance floor to get some drinks.

"Nev? May I introduze you to somevon?" asked a deep voice with an unmistakable accent.

It was Viktor Krum. He was holding the hand of Elissa Lord. She looked very shy but kept her eyes on the group that she was approaching.

"Err… Sure," answered Neville uneasily. He had obviously recognised the Canadian Seeker because he was wearing the same look of admiration as Dean had.

"This is Elissa Lord," said Krum fondly. "She thinks zat you fly very vell, Nev."

"Everyone calls me Sissi," she replied timidly, taking Neville's hand in greeting. Then she added: "You should play Quidditch, Nev, but I expect everyone's told you that already."

She was blushing slightly. She must be nervous among all those strangers, Harry thought, but she was hiding it well.

"Only the _Slytherins_ don't want him to play Quidditch," added Ron happily, clapping Neville on the back.

"I guess I fly well…" said Neville uncomfortably. "Not bad, anyway…"

Harry realised at Neville's tone that he should change the topic of the conversation at once.

"What school do you go to?" he asked Elissa, dragging the conversation unto himself.

"Beowulf College," she replied. "It's on the St.Lawrence River, in the Province of Quebec, but I only go there part time."

"How can you be studying magic only part time?" asked Harry. He was genuinely interested by this new notion.

"I'm Muggle-born. My parents didn't want me to learn magic. They don't really understand… Anyway, I go to Muggle school during the week and to Beowulf on week-ends and during summer break."

"My parents wanted me to do that as well," said Hermione understandingly.

Ron was staring at her in disbelief.

"I think that what really convinced them that I should learn magic was when I blew up my dad's computer," explained Hermione. "I hate computers," she added for the profit of Elissa.

"Me too," Harry and Elissa said in unison.

Hermione's glance darted back to Harry.

"How would you know, Harry? You're from a family of wizards that never used computers. You don't even know what it is."

"Err… I just imagined…" said Harry vaguely. He couldn't tell them that he had been the victim of Dudley's frustration when his cousin's computer had somehow failed halfway through a game.

"What convinced my parents," Elissa started to say to get passed the awkward moment, "was when I flew up to the ceiling and couldn't get down for a full day. I love flying," she added dreamily.

Viktor Krum took her arm fondly.

"You've seen the first task?" asked Neville suddenly catching on.

"Yes I did." Then, seeing the same look of curiosity on everyone's face, she explained: "I know it's not regular. I asked Mr Crouch and he couldn't say no. He wants me to take part in one of those summer internship at the Ministry next year when I'm finished at Beowulf. I think that Sirius talked him into it. He says that I should become an Auror."

"Sirius Black?" enquired Ginny, echoing Harry's thoughts.

"Yes. I think that they've put him in charge of recruitment. Do you know him?"

All the stares turned to Harry.

"He's my godfather," he answered blankly.

"Wow," said Elissa. "You're lucky."

There were a few other questions that Harry wanted to ask her, but Viktor Krum was starting to pull her towards the dance floor.

"Shall ve dance?" Krum said in his deep voice. He was staring intently into Elissa's eyes.

The Weird Sisters had begun a slow ballad that Harry recognised as the last of the evening. Ron and Hermione were already making their way towards the dance floor. Harry saw Cho and Cedric do the same from the corner of his eye.

"Where's Eleanor?" asked Neville suddenly as Harry was taking up Ginny's arm. He had decided to follow the lead of Krum and Elissa. This was the dance that he had been waiting for. The words of the song were now filling the Hall: "_This is your final chance_." It felt like the singer was speaking to Harry directly.

"I don't know," said Ginny. "I haven't seen her since the Weird Sisters showed up."

Neville was looking around nervously. He seemed to have completely forgotten about Viktor Krum and Elissa Lord, or about all the people present at the Yule Ball altogether.

"We had a fight," he said blankly. "It was stupid, really. I just wanted her to cut me some slack…"

He was staring at the door impatiently. Harry tried to get Ginny to follow him, he really wanted to dance the last dance with her, but she was not responding. Her attention seemed to be fully on Neville now. Harry felt a bitter taste in his mouth. He was going to miss his final chance.

"She's just upset," Harry said to Neville encouragingly. "She'll turn up eventually." He tried to wheel Ginny towards the back of the Great Hall again.

"The teachers are patrolling the corridors," Ginny added hopefully. She had not moved.

"Yeah," agreed Neville, "but she usually runs to hide in the Greenhouses when she's upset. I hate to think that she's outside all alone. It's really late…"

Harry exchanged a glance with Ginny. He could hear the music as though it was calling him, but Ginny was already sharing Neville's worried expression and it was clear that she was not going back to the dance floor without having first found Eleanor.

"Alright," said Harry resolutely with a note of disappointment. "We can go outside and look for her."

Neville was already walking towards the Entrance Hall. Ginny was trying to comfort him as they were walking speedily away from the other students, but Neville did not even look back once on the party that they were leaving. Harry remained trailing behind, still listening to the music.

"Don't worry. We'll find her," offered Ginny.

"It's just…" Neville began to say, his voice trailing off thoughtfully, "it's all those talk about You-Know-Who wanting to catch me. All they have to do is catch El and I will come running for her. I can't help it. She's my sister."

It was very cold and dark outside. The castle's lights were casting a pale golden glow on the snow, but Harry knew that the path to the Greenhouses would be utterly dark. Ginny, Neville and Harry all said "_Lumos_!" as they got further away from the castle walls and the tip of their three wands became the only light to show them the way. Harry couldn't help by stare back at the castle. He could hear the music in the background slowly die away. Ginny and Neville were walking ahead of him and they didn't seem to care anymore. Ginny had transfigured her shoes into boots and was gathering her dress around her to avoid getting snow on it. It was actually a very good bit of transfiguration. The boots were completely made of fur and looked comfortable if only too big. Harry was sure that his shoes would turn into water goblets if he tried a spell like that.

"Let's split up," said Neville. "I'll take Greenhouse Three, it's bigger but that's usually where she is. Harry, you can take Greenhouse Two and Ginny, Greenhouse One. Come back here after you've finished your search."

Harry appreciated that Neville was taking charge. His mind wasn't on what he was doing, not at all. He kept watching Ginny, how beautiful she was, how elegant and full of life she looked even in the dark. The sight of her was making him feel slightly blushed.

When he reached Greenhouse Two, he wished that he was back in the Great Hall. The windows were shattered. There were broken pieces of glass everywhere. Some plants seemed to have been ripped off their pots, others had thorn leaves or their flowers were lying hopelessly on the ground. Harry raised his wand higher. Every one of his senses was on alert. Some beast had obviously been set loose on Greenhouse Two, but it was no longer here. Harry's mind was racing with many scenarios. The most plausible explanation as far as he could tell was his least favourite possibility. Lupin had said that he might be coming to school at Christmas…

Harry moved carefully and quietly along the center alley of the Greenhouse until he could see the sky through an opening in the roof. "Full moon," he thought, his heart pounding in his chest at the horror of what his mind had just concluded. He had to gather Ginny and Neville back to him. Fast.

Suddenly, the sky was illuminated in a red light. Harry recognised the sparks and the spell that came with it. Someone had shouted "_Periculum_!" It was coming from Greenhouse Three.

Harry ran out of Greenhouse Two as quickly as he could, tripping on his robes as he did so. Someone else screamed. It was a young girl's voice, and it was a scream of terror. The response was the cry of a werewolf. Harry froze on the spot. His fear had just been confirmed.

"Ginny!" yelled Harry instinctively.

"I'm here!" said a voice behind him.

It was indeed Ginny. She was catching on with him. She seemed to be struggling on her boots and tripping over her long dress. There was no way that she could run fast enough dressed up as she was.

"Get back to the castle!" Harry cried at once.

Ginny stopped short, unsure whether or not she should turn around.

"Get back to the castle!" repeated Harry. "Get my dad and Sirius! It's a werewolf! Turn your wand off and go! Quick! Don't let it see you!"

He saw her acknowledge what he had just said with a nod, then she wheeled around towards the castle and turned off the wand-light, and finally Harry lost sight of her in the darkness.

A high-pitched girl's scream filled the air again. There was the sound of broken glass. Harry heard a voice that was distinctly Neville call out for help. Both Eleanor and Neville must be in Greenhouse Three, concluded Harry. There was only one thing that he could do to lure the beast away.

With the best imitation of a werewolf cry that he could make, Harry yelled out twice so that the creature would hear. The sound of breaking glass stopped for a few tense seconds, then Harry saw something enormous leap in the darkness. The werewolf was coming towards him.

He ran as fast as he could, tearing his robes on the rim along the way. Once he fell on his knees and he thought that he was done for, but he picked himself up instantly and started to run again. He could hear the beast coming nearer. He could almost smell it. He wasn't fast enough to outrun a werewolf. When he got to the level of Greenhouse One, he wheeled inside it, using his wand hand to shift his course. The windows were shattered here as well. He felt the edge of a broken piece of glass cut deeply into his hand. His wand went flying off with a _clang_ and he could not see it anymore.

Quickly, he was on his knees, patting the ground, looking for his wand. He was aware that his hand was bleeding abundantly. The werewolf would smell the fresh blood. It would be here any moment now. His eyes were getting accustomed to the darkness, but still the wand was nowhere in sight.

Suddenly, he heard a deep growling breath. The outline of the werewolf was in the doorway, and the Greenhouse had no other exit. Harry stopped moving at once and took a slow and stealthy step in a dark corner of the Greenhouse. Perhaps the beast would not see him in the dark if he kept still, but he wasn't sure. Why on earth couldn't he remember the stuff he read like Hermione?

"Wand," he whispered to himself, feeling the table besides him. "I need wand."

Instead, his hand fell on a plant and something small grabbed his finger. It was a small _hand_, and it wasn't letting go of him.

"What kind of plant has _hands_?" he thought annoyingly.

The werewolf was taking slow steps towards him, sniffing the air as it did so. It could _smell_ him. It could smell his blood. He had to get away and fast, but his wounded hand was stuck in the grasp of a stupid plant.

Ginny was bound to show up now with Sirius and his father, thought Harry. Anytime now would be a good time. The plant was still clutching his finger. The werewolf was bent low. It was going to leap straight at him. He had nowhere to run. He had no wand. The werewolf leapt unto the table and several pots fell to the ground. He heard the sound of broken ceramic and a feeble scream coming from the plant's root. Harry recognised it at once.

"Mandrakes," he thought in a flash.

With the best grasp that he could perform with his right hand, he ceased the plant and pulled it sharp. The Mandrake root, which looked like a miniature troll, started to scream furiously. Harry's head began to swim. He was going to faint. Mandrakes could knock you out for several hours, he remembered. Harry tried to focus his darkening vision on the werewolf. At the sound of the screaming, the beast had started to rage at and slash everything within reach of its deadly arms and claws. The Mandrake's cry was affecting the werewolf, but the monster wasn't going to faint.

"_Acio_ wand!" cried Harry, but his voice was too feeble.

He leaned on the table. His knees were weak. If he lost consciousness, the werewolf would tear him apart like it was doing to everything else.

"_Acio_ wand!" he repeated, concentrating as best as he could. Then, against all of Harry's hopes, the wand slid across the floor and back into his right hand. With the remaining strength that he had, he pointed his wand at the beast and said "_Petrificus Totalus_!"

He saw the werewolf's limbs freeze as the spell hit its body square in the chest, and then Harry knew no more.


	11. Chapter 11

PART TWO

CHAPTER ELEVEN: JAMES AND REMUS

He was plunging into an empty sky. The night was dark and the moon was full. Below him was a silvery pool of black water. A piercing scream filled his ears. Any second now, he would hit the water. Any second now…

Harry's eyes snapped opened. He was lying on his back. The ceiling was familiar, and so were the white bed sheets. He was in the hospital wing. The pale light of early morning was beaming through the high windows.

Harry's mouth filled with a sickening taste as though his stomach had just been turned upside down. Had it all been a dream? Perhaps he had never left the hospital wing after that night in the graveyard. Perhaps he had imagined it all: his parents, Neville being selected as Hogwarts' champion, Neville's sister, Neville's lightening scar, Neville's parents laughing, Ron and Hermione holding hands, Sirius looking dashing in a long black coat, Ginny coming down the stairs in a forest green dress…

"Good morning, sleepy head," said a woman's voice.

He felt the soft hand of Lily Potter slip into his. She was alive, his mom, and she was beaming down at him with that familiar smile that he loved. She bent down and gave him a hug. Harry took a deep breath. He was still back in time. It was real. The words he had read a few months ago had said: "Turn back time. Live one year exactly as you wish it." His mother holding him as she was doing so now, that was what he had wished for. But the attack of a werewolf, the Dragon Fever, the burning forehead; he was sure that they had not been part of his wish. Something was not right.

"How long was I out?" he asked as Lily Potter was smoothening his hair and looking into his eyes with motherly concern.

"A couple of hours," she answered vaguely. "Dawn is breaking. It must be around five in the morning."

Harry forced his mind to remember the events of the previous night. The Yule Ball had been the best party he had ever lived, and then the rest of the evening had been darkness, snow, broken glass and screams.

"How's Nev?" he asked urgently. "How's Eleanor? And Ginny? Are they alright?"

"They're all fine," replied his mother. There was pride in her tone. She was fussing around the bed now, straightening the sheets, pouring him a glass of water. "You were very brave, Harry. Nev and Eleanor were lucky to have you."

She came back to sit at the foot of his bed. The early sun beams coming through the high windows were reflecting on her hair.

"Ginny found James and Sirius like you asked her," she continued. "They were not far but with the music they didn't hear the yelling or anything. They were patrolling near the Black Lake where the Durmstrang ship is anchored. They saw the red sparks and Ginny running towards them, but when they got there, you had already taken care of the werewolf."

She was looking straight at him with a very fond expression, full of pride and motherly love. Harry felt himself blush slightly.

"You saved Nev and his sister, Harry. McGonnagal gave sixty points to Gryffindor for _your_ outstanding courage in the face of danger. I had never thought… my son…"

Her voice trailed off. Her eyes were filled with tears. She came closer and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

"Now no one can say anymore that you don't belong in Gryffindor," she said softly to his ear.

"Who says that I don't belong in Gryffindor?" he asked, cutting her off.

He was getting very uncomfortable. No one had ever looked at him with such pride and deep fondness as his mother was doing so now. Somehow, however, he didn't feel like he deserved that much praise. It was very possible that the werewolf, Lupin, had been on Hogwarts ground because of him. What _was_ Lupin doing at Hogwarts, anyway?

"It doesn't matter," she replied with her outmost motherly tone.

Harry decided not to linger on the subject. He had already a good idea who might be saying that he didn't belong in Gryffindor. He wondered what his father's opinion of him was now that he had taken on a werewolf. Would he call him a show off again?

"Where's Lupin?" he asked, lifting his head from the pillow.

She seemed surprised by his question but merely shrugged as an answer.

"Lupin is not here, darling," she said, turning her face away from him. "I don't know why you ask…"

Harry realised that she was lying to him, probably because he was not supposed to know the truth.

"I know that Lupin is a werewolf," he said straight away.

She got up, shook her long hair, and looked into his face again. She seemed quite disturbed by the fact that he knew.

"Listen, Harry," she said quietly. They were alone in the room but she threw one nervous glance at the door before continuing. "Remus Lupin is a good man. Your father used to work with him. They fought against You-Know-Who together. It's not his fault that he's a werewolf and your father understands that, but… Well your father only wants to keep you safe. You see, it's not the first time that Lupin attacks you as a werewolf."

Harry was beginning to understand, but it didn't seem like the image that he had of his father. James, Sirius and Wormtail had learned to turn into animals so that they could remain with their friend Remus Lupin when he was a werewolf. They were Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. They had written the Marauder's Map together. They were the best of friends. Wormtail's betrayal could only have strengthened the relationship of the remaining three friends. Harry had never considered Lupin's condition as anything else but trivial. Surely, his father thought the same way, and so must Sirius.

"Not the first time? When did it happen the first time?" he asked innocently, sitting up.

Lily shook her head again as she was searching her memory. It was as though she was seeing something in her mind that she would rather forget. She brought him another pillow from another bed, pulled her chair closer to him, and started to relate the story.

"You were young. Five years-old. Remus and Sirius were staying with us for Christmas. The worst time for Remus is the full moon of Christmas Eve and he was reluctant to come, but I convinced him too. I thought that it would be good for him. He's very lonely, you know. He doesn't really have anyone, only us. I wasn't afraid of him. None of us ever were. After all, he was Remus. Just Remus."

She paused. Harry was wondering if she was feeling guilty. Had she believed that Lupin wouldn't hurt anyone as a werewolf? Then Harry remembered that Hermione had thought the same thing one year ago. Hermione, the brightest witch in their year, had hoped that the werewolf that was threatening Ron, Harry and her would recognise her and not hurt her. But that was contrary to what every book on werewolf said.

"Anyway," said Lily. She seemed to be coming out of her reverie as Harry was. "James and Sirius had thought up a plan to keep Remus in the basement of our house at all cost. They chained him up, put spells on the door, and enchanted the stairs so that he could not escape. They thought of everything, but they didn't think about your going downstairs for a midnight stroll. It wasn't in your habit to get up during the night so we never even thought that you would. I don't know how long you were downstairs before the werewolf realised it, but when I woke up, James was carrying you up in his arms. You were covered in blood. It wasn't serious, though. It was just the biggest fright we had ever had, James and me. Sirius took care of Remus, and we went to the Longbottom's to spend the remaining of the night. James wouldn't bring you back to the house as long as Remus was still there."

Harry's mind raced back to his first Defence Against the Dark Arts with his dad. James' Boggart had turned into a werewolf. It all made sense.

"But mom," Harry started to say, "Lupin is not dangerous. When he's a werewolf, he's a completely different person. Dad knows that. Dad is our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. He should know that!"

"It's not that easy, darling," said his mother softly.

Harry realised that he had raised his voice, but he didn't care. His dad's behaviour towards Lupin was ludicrous to him.

"What Lupin does as a werewolf doesn't change who he is," he said stubbornly.

"It's not just that," said Lily. Her voice was full of comprehension, understanding. Harry felt his temper cool down when she spoke. "Lupin could have bit you. He could have turned you into a werewolf. I don't think that your father ever cared that it could happen to him, but to you… it's different. After watching Lupin suffer every month for years and years, I think that your father was ready to give up his friendship just to make sure it never happened to you. Do you understand what I'm saying, Harry?"

Harry let the idea sink in. It didn't seem fair for Lupin. He wasn't responsible for his condition. They had been friends, James and Remus, now they weren't, and Harry was the cause of the quarrel that had driven them apart.

Suddenly, Harry felt a huge weight on his chest. Even with his mother at his side, his life seemed less than perfect. He knew that he should be happy for what he had gained. His father at least loved him enough to give up a friendship to guarantee his safety. Why then did he feel so sad? Why did he have that lump in his throat? Was it because he had expected that his father would have more nerves?

"Harry," his mother said softly, "how do you know about Lupin?"

Harry turned away from her gaze. He couldn't lie to her, not up front, and not to her face.

"I overheard a conversation once," he answered simply.

"Fare enough."

She got up. Seemingly, she was accepting the explanation as such. Harry didn't follow her with his stare and he didn't get up either. He wanted her to go away. He wanted to be left alone.

"You sleep now," she said, touching his forehead. "You're a bit feverish. Mandrakes are not dangerous when they're still siblings, but that freezing weather and the snow… You might be fighting a cold. You can open your Christmas presents when you have rested a bit."

She kissed him again, this time on the top of his head.

A few seconds later, Lily Potter shut the door of the hospital wing behind her and Harry was left alone, but it wasn't his intention to stay in bed. He had made up his mind to find out where Lupin was at the present. He was hoping that he could talk to him at least. He had to let him know that he wasn't like his father.

"I'm not like my father," Harry said out loud to himself as he was putting on the clothes that his mother had left for him at the foot of his bed.

"The resemblance is hard to miss, dear," said the voice of the nurse in one of the portraits.

With a frustrated sigh, Harry stormed out of the hospital wing.

WHAM!

He had run straight into Ginny. The both of them fell on their backs and on the hard stone floor.

"Harry… ouch. Sorry. I was coming to see you," said Ginny as she was rubbing her right elbow.

Harry was already up on his feet and holding out his hand for her. She took it and he pulled her up. She was wearing her nightgown with a knitted navy blue robe over it. Harry immediately noticed the circles under her eyes as though she had not slept for the whole night. She looked in a hurry.

"Ginny, what's wrong?"

"Mr and Mrs Longbottom are here," she said breathlessly. "They came to check on Nev and Eleanor, I suppose that McGonnagal informed them of what happened, and then they went straight to Dumbledore's office. Mr Longbottom, he looked furious. I think that he wants to file a complaint against Mr Lupin."

Harry was immediately very alarmed. The Ministry of Magic had very severe laws against werewolves. He was suddenly imagining McNair the executioner swinging his axe over a Lupin's neck.

"That's not good," said Harry with the same sense of urgency. "Where's Professor Lupin now?"

"In your father's office," said Ginny. "And why do you call him a professor?"

Harry ignored the question and started to walk as fast as he could towards the staircases. Ginny followed him without delay. He didn't know how, but he knew that he had to convince them that Lupin could not be treated like a common monster.

"Why didn't they put him in the donjon?" asked Harry as he was climbing the stairs two by two.

"Because you petrified him really well and he's completely knocked out," answered Ginny. She was a few steps behind him. "The sun is up now," she continued as she was catching up. "He ought to be back to his human form at this hour. Snape went to get a potion to 'unpetrify' him."

Harry stopped short and looked at her inquiringly.

"How do _you_ know all that, Ginny?" he asked.

Ginny pulled out a bundle of fabric that she had been carrying under her robe but which Harry had not noticed. It was the Invisibility Cloak, the one that Sirius had given him, not his father, apparently.

"I pretended to go to sleep," she started to explain speedily, "and then I went to check on Lupin. You didn't see the look on your father's face when he saw you lying on the ground and the blood on your hand. He thought that you were dead; or worst, that you'd been bitten. It's a good thing that Lupin was already knocked out because I'm not sure what your father would have done. He was so angry, Harry. I don't want to think of what might have happened."

Harry felt his temper rising again. Would his father treat Lupin the same way that the Ministry had treated Buckbeak the Hippogrif? It seemed so unlikely, yet Harry had been surprised by the Ministry's rules before, and by the reactions of his father. Would Lupin end up in Azkaban? Harry could not think about that. It was simply too horrible.

He started up the stairs again with Ginny close on his heels. The Defence Against the Dart Arts classroom was just a few doors away now. He felt the heat on his face. The last thing he wanted was a confrontation with his James Potter, but he had no choice.

The classroom was empty, but the door of the office at the back of the room stood ajar. The first voice that he heard was his father's. It froze Harry on the spot.

"YOU COULD HAVE KILLED A STUDENT, REMUS! YOU COULD HAVE HURT HARRY! MY SON, FOR GODSAKE! BUT WORST OF ALL, YOU COULD HAVE KILLED _NEVILLE_!"

Ginny took Harry by the arm. The bailing seemed to have drained the color off her face. Harry had not expected Neville to be a part of the argument between James and Remus. He didn't dare to walk in on the quarrel yet. He wanted to hear more.

"There was no harm done, James!" said Sirius stubbornly and at a volume that was close to screaming as well.

"We go out of our way to protect Nev and you choose to threaten his life on the evening when the entire wizard world has its eye fixed on Hogwarts," continued James Potter, completely ignoring Sirius' comment. "Your stupidity has let Voldemort's followers know that Neville is relatively unprotected at Hogwarts."

"Are you accusing him of anything, James?" boomed Sirius' voice. "ARE YOU ACCUSING HIM?"

"James is right, Sirius," said Lupin's feeble voice. "I have been very foolish."

"Oh shut up!" snapped Sirius loudly. "I won't let James' personal woes tear you apart. There was a risk when we stationed you in Hogsmead. We're all responsible and Dumbledore knows it."

"Dumbledore can make mistakes," retorted Lupin reasonably.

"Don't you take all the blame on yourself, Remus Lupin, you've done that on too many occasions," said Sirius sharply.

"If Harry hadn't been there," continued Lupin, his voice rising at the level of Sirius', "I would have killed Neville and his sister."

"I would have killed you myself," said James darkly.

"I WOULD HAVE STOPPED YOU!" Sirius bailed at the top of his voice.

"HE COULD HAVE KILLED MY SON!" shouted Harry's dad.

"I'm sorry, James," said Lupin. He sounded deeply miserable. "I'm sorry that I put Harry in danger. I understand how angry you must feel…"

"Shut up, Remus!" snapped Sirius. "Don't you feel sorry for that selfish…"

But the voice of Sirius was soon buried under James' yelling.

"HOW CAN YOU POSSIBLY UNDERSTAND HOW I FEEL, REMUS? HOW CAN EITHER OF YOU? YOU HAVE NO CHILDREN! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO WORRY ABOUT YOUR FAMILY. YOU HAVE NO FAMILY! HARRY AND LILY ARE EVERYTHING TO ME. _EVERYTHING_!"

There was a silence broken only by Ginny's accelerated breathing. Harry had forgotten where he was and what he had come here for. Ginny was pale and shaking. She was still gripping his arm.

"You're right, James," said Lupin weakly.

"Shut up, Remus," snapped Harry's dad. "You're off the assignment. Don't ever come near me and my son again. I don't know what I might do."

There was the sound of a chair being pushed aside and feet coming towards the door. Ginny was quick to react. Before Harry could say anything or even make a move, she pulled the Invisibility Cloak over both of their heads and pulled Harry closer to the wall to clear the way.

Seconds later, James Potter came rushing out of his office. His hair looked messier than ever. He had removed his glasses and was rubbing his eyes as he walked. He looked very distraught and did not even glance around as he crossed the classroom. At that moment, Harry wasn't sure that he wanted to talk to him. He wasn't sure of anything.

"Get out of here, Sirius," said the low voice of Remus Lupin. He sounded very weak. "I want to be left alone for a while."

There was a moment of silent hesitation.

"Suit yourself," said Sirius flatly.

Ginny pulled Harry's arm closer to her as Sirius's footsteps were heard coming out of the office.

"If you don't stand up to him then you're not worth my time either!" yelled Sirius as he stormed out of the classroom. "I don't need either of you to be happy!"

He was almost running when he passed in front of Harry and Ginny, and Harry heard him mutter "I'm perfectly happy" as he was flinging the classroom door behind him.

"Harry?" said Ginny's voice close to his ear.

He didn't know what to think anymore. Was he to follow Sirius and convince him that his father had every right to fear for the safety of his family? Was he to go to his father and scold him for the way he had treated Lupin _and_ Sirius? Then again, his father's behaviour was the direct result of his love for his wife and son. What could Harry possibly say against that?

"Harry?" repeated Ginny. "If you want to talk to Lupin, now might be a good time."

Harry pulled the cloak off his head mechanically. What could he say to Lupin now? He wasn't sure that his father had been entirely wrong after all. How could he blame his father for loving him and his mother enough to sacrifice a friendship? Who was to blame for this quarrel? Perhaps he, Harry, was faulty. To think that had such a bitter taste. He had not wished for anything like this to happen.

"I should have known that you would be here," said a voice that made Harry and Ginny suddenly jump and turn around.

There was no one, but Harry distinctively saw a shadow move across the Foe Glass, the outline of a creature half-man and half-wolf, and then Lupin's head appeared in front of them as he was took off the hood of his Invisibility Cloak. He looked very pale, almost grey, and there were many cuts on his face. He was leaning heavily on a stick.

"Professor…" Harry started to say uneasily, "I mean… Mr Lupin."

"Harry. Miss Weasley," said Lupin courtly, pulling the cloak off his shoulders. "I suppose that you overheard our argument and learned the truth about my… condition."

Ginny took a step forward, crossing her arms over her chest as she did so. "It was hard to miss it with all the yelling and screaming," she said harshly.

"Well that sometimes happens in an argument," replied Lupin matter-of-factly.

Lupin pulled a chair closer and sat down heavily on it. There was strain on his face as he did so. Ginny opened her mouth to say another remark but she seemed unable to. Instead, she began to roll up the Invisibility Cloak uneasily.

"I was wondering what Sirius had done with James' old Invisibility Cloak," said Lupin with half a smile. "Looks like you two have put it to good use."

"You too," replied Ginny with a meaningful glance at the cloak that Lupin was holding.

Lupin returned her smile but gave no explanation.

"Mr Lupin," Harry started to say, taking a few steps towards his former Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, "my dad didn't mean it."

"I believed that he meant it, Harry. Your father loves you very much. I definitely don't want to be the one to come between him and his family."

"He wouldn't kill you," replied Harry quickly. "He wouldn't. He couldn't…"

But his voice was trailing off against his best intentions. His dad was a Hogwarts' teacher. He would know that werewolves were merciless. Harry could remember clearly what Hermione had said about werewolves: "_He'd kill his best friend if he'd cross his path_."

"I wouldn't expect less of him," said Lupin sincerely, looking straight into Harry's eyes. "Your father is a good man. He will protect his family to the death. Never forget that, Harry."

Harry's stomach had turned upside down again. His father had indeed given his life to save him from Voldemort. How could he, Harry, have forgotten it? Was this new reality affecting his judgement? Maybe it was the Dragon Fever. He felt so hot and so tired.

"It was my fault that you almost got killed last night, Harry, and Neville and his sister as well. I hope that you can forgive me, and that you can pass on my apologies to Nev and Eleanor. I don't think that their parents would appreciate my going to ask them in person."

"They're not like that," said Harry tentatively.

"You'd be surprised," said Lupin with his voice full of comprehension. "Neville's parents are very protective of their children as well, and the tournament has done nothing to improve their nerves."

"Why did you come so close to the school then?" asked Ginny openly and before Harry could add anything. "What were you doing in Hogsmead? Why take the risk?"

Lupin looked like he was avoiding Ginny and Harry's inquiring stares.

"Working," he answered vaguely, looking away.

Harry's eyes darted to Lupin's Invisibility Cloak. He couldn't remember who else he knew to possess such a rare piece of fabric. Lupin seemed to catch what was going on in his mind.

"Moody lent it to me. Mad-Eye Moody," said Lupin to Harry. "You might have heard of him…"

"Moody is here?" asked Harry in alarm.

"Yes," said Lupin simply. "We have been keeping an eye on the tournament."

"On whose orders?" Harry asked urgently.

A dreadful thought was beginning to form in his mind. Moody had been replaced by Barty Crouch Junior before. That was how Crouch's son had been able to set a trap for Harry. It was very possible that the same thing was happening again. The approach was different, but still the possibility was alarming.

"Dumbledore's orders, of course," said Lupin almost with indignation.

"And Moody," added Harry even more urgently, "has he been acting odd? Does he seem like… himself to you?"

There was no other way to phrase it. He wanted to be subtle, not to arise suspicions, but this was simply too important. Moody could very well be a disguise in which case a lot of people were in danger.

"Moody is fine, Harry. I've known him for a long time. I would know if he was different. Are you thinking about the Imperius Curse?" inquired Lupin with a tone of mixed curiosity and distress.

"But are you _sure_?" Harry repeated, ignoring the question.

He could feel his blood racing. What if they caught Barty Crouch Junior _right now_? Would that be enough to stop Voldemort's return?

"Yes, I'm sure. Moody is not the one we're here to worry about," said Lupin.

Lupin was now staring at him, and so was Ginny.

"Harry, you don't look well…" Ginny began saying.

"Who?" asked Harry, his voice carrying more meaning than he was intending. "Who are you worrying about? Who are you watching?"

Lupin maintained his gaze upon him, never yielding. He seemed to be searching Harry's face for something, perhaps a sign that Harry wasn't loosing his mind. At last, he leaned forward and said quietly but very seriously.

"We are keeping an eye on Bartemius Crouch."

As though the information had been a trigger, Harry's forehead seared with pain so that he had to clasp his hands on his face. He swayed on the spot and Ginny had to catch his arm so that he wouldn't fall. He knew that Lupin was talking to him but he couldn't hear. His mind was filled with a hissing noise. It was filling his ears and his thoughts.

"Massster knowsss!" said a voice that was louder and clearer than the others. "Massster will punisssh the insssolant boy! Massster will have hisss price!"

Harry tried to focus on the room. He was looking for the source of the hissing. Two pairs of arms were trying to pull him down on a chair. Ginny and Lupin could not hear what he was hearing.

Then he saw them. Under the window sill were the glass bowls with the snakes inside every single one. He tried to reach for his wand from the back pocket of his pants, but his scar gave another painful throb and his hand instinctively reached for his forehead instead.

"What does your master know?" Harry shouted in the direction of the snakes and in what he hoped was Parseltongue. "Does he know about Neville? Is Crouch helping him? Speak or I will curse you all to ashes, I swear!"

The hissing stopped. All was silent in his mind now. The invisible scar was burning steadily but he didn't care.

"Another massster of snakesss," whispered a single voice. "Massster knowsss. Massster will punisssh the insssolant boy. Massster isss the only massster of snakesss."

The silence had been like the heave of a storm. The next moment, the glass bowls were shaking madly as the snakes were slithering out of their transparent houses. Some of the bowls tipped over and broke as they fell on the stone floor. Ginny screamed. Lupin pulled both Harry and Ginny by the wrist and out of the classroom as fast as he could in his sickly condition. The snakes were not following them. In fact, they were not even interested by them. They were climbing on the window sill and breaking more glass as they beat their way out of the classroom and unto the castle ground like a wave of undulating long grass. The snakes were leaving Hogwarts. Something, someone, was calling them, and it was clear to Harry who it was.

As they watched the scene from the doorway, their wands pulled out in front of them, Lupin and Ginny seemed in shocked. All the while, Harry was clutching his forehead with his free hand and shaking violently with fever. Or was it something else that made him feel so weak inside? Was it fear? He didn't know. Only one thing was sure in his mind at that moment. Voldemort was stronger than he had ever been. He was ready to return. It was no longer a matter of time, but of opportunity. He had to figure out who was helping him this time, before it was too late.


	12. Chapter 12

PART THREE

CHAPTER TWELVE: _SERPENTE EVANESCA_

Harry had a very hard time convincing Lupin not to report to his father that he was a Parselmouth. Lupin did not seem very much surprised, though. His reaction to the news was cold and almost unfeeling. He was much more interested in what the snakes had been saying before they had escaped. Harry had merely made it sound like the snakes were answering a call.

"They're going to Voldemort," said Harry seriously as Lupin was walking besides him towards the entrance hall.

Lupin stopped abruptly. He was leaning heavily on his stick. He looked at Harry intently, and it was only then that Harry realised that he had used the name of Voldemort probably for the first time in front of Lupin.

"It's only a name," said Harry irritably.

"To many people it is the name of fear itself," said Lupin, slowly resuming his walk towards the main entrance.

It was very early in the morning. The ball had lasted until well after midnight therefore most of the students were still in bed. It was most likely that no students other than Harry, Ginny, Neville and Eleanor knew of any werewolf on Hogwarts ground during the night of the Yule Ball. At least, that was what Harry hoped because he didn't want to cause Lupin anymore trouble.

At the moment, the corridor was deserted, which meant that he could speak freely to Lupin for what may very well be the last time face to face.

"He's growing stronger," Harry added quietly.

"Yes, Dumbledore has been saying that too," confirmed Lupin. He was looking straight ahead of him and avoiding eye-contact with Harry. His expression was one of deep thoughtfulness.

Harry suspected that Lupin did not want to meet James along the way therefore he had sent Ginny in search of his father so that he, Harry, could have this one last moment with his former teacher. He wanted to have this last chance to say a proper good-bye and maybe to ask a few more questions. Harry doubted that his father would let Lupin come back at Hogwarts or even Hogsmead anymore.

"It's not Voldemort that we're concerned with, though," offered Lupin. "It's the Death Eaters. They're stirring again. Frank and Alice Longbottom are having as many Aurors as possible around Hogwarts to watch their son."

"Yes of course," said Harry with sudden realisation. "They're Aurors. They're here to protect Neville."

"Frank is Head Auror, more accurately," Lupin reaffirmed. "I'm afraid that my little excursion on Hogwarts ground has left Frank Longbottom to believe that Dumbledore has rather lost his touch."

Harry quickly remembered what Lupin had said about Dumbledore earlier.

"Do_ you_ think that Dumbledore has lost his touch?" he asked, trying not to sound too bitter or accusing.

"No," said Lupin immediately, "but I don't reckon he should have let Neville compete. Professor Snape, however, seemed to think it a good opportunity to – how did he put it? 'Let the events unfold'."

"He may be right," said Harry. He hated to have to admit that Snape had been right, but the outcome of the third task had been the shedding of Barty Crouch Junior's masquerade appearance. If Harry had not been allowed to compete, Barty Crouch's disguise might have lasted a lot longer, and the deeds that he could have done in Moody's place were too ghastly to imagine. Then again, Snape might have been helping Crouch's son to begin with.

"Yes, Harry," said Lupin understandingly. "Snape may be right, but Frank Longbottom does not see it that way."

Harry merely shrugged. He was not able to put a definite answer on whether or not he believed Snape to be on the good side of the fight against Voldemort. He decided to drop the subject.

"You don't think I'm weird or dangerous because I can talk to snakes," he asked casually, trying very hard not to sound too much bothered with the idea.

"Think about who you're asking," said Lupin with half a smile. "It's not a very common gift. It looked rather painful too, I might add."

Harry didn't reply right away. He couldn't tell which side-effect was troubling him the most at the moment: the Dragon Fever or the burning and invisible scar.

"I'm all right," he said after a while and when he realised that Lupin was staring at him with concern. "It's just a headache. The Mandrakes, you know," he added quickly.

They stopped in front of the wooden entrance door. Lupin had no luggage, only his Invisibility Cloak under his left arm and his walking stick in his right hand. He looked very sick and weak. The morning winter light that came in as he opened the door revealed even deeper shadows under his eyes.

"Will you be alright?" asked Harry with what he hoped was a sincere and concerned tone.

"Oh yes," answered Lupin quite convincingly. "I've looked worst, believe me. How about you, Harry? It's been kind of rough for you too."

"I'm just a bit tired."

As he said this, he yawned loudly. His absent scar was still prickling, but he made no mention of it to Lupin. Overall, he figured that he had enough reasons to be exhausted. He didn't need to open the door for more awkward questions.

"We still haven't covered the subject of your Boggart. Why Dementors, Harry?" asked Lupin darkly. He was still avoiding Harry's gaze and he was looking at the bright sun outside.

One of the school's carriages was pulling in front of the Hogwarts main entrance as Lupin waited for an answer. A large white horse was pulling it.

"I don't know. I'm just afraid of them. Isn't that the whole point of a Boggart?" said Harry rapidly.

"Dementors force us to relive our very worst memories," said Lupin. "I cannot think of any event in your life that would have the effects that you describe. I'm no expert of course, as I am obviously not in your shoes twenty-four hours a day. But for your Boggart to turn into a Dementor and have such a powerful effect on you… There would have to be horrors in your past beyond something as trivial as a werewolf."

Harry couldn't reply anything. He couldn't tell Lupin what memory the Boggart was feeding on. He couldn't even say that he had been in the presence of a real Dementor once, more than one in fact, and that the experience still haunted him. It was too much. Harry's mind was filled with sullenness now. Voldemort's return was close, too close. It was not fair. He wanted to live his perfect life just a little longer, even if it was less than what he had wished for.

"There's so much you're not telling me, Harry," said Lupin softly. There was a deep fondness in his voice even though he was quite distant in manners. "You have to learn to trust people more."

Harry didn't reply. He was thinking about his bed now. All he wanted was to sleep. Lupin seemed to understand. He took a few steps outside, shivered a little, and then he turned around to face Harry one last time.

"If you're ever in doubt…" he started to say.

"I know," answered Harry quickly, "I should talk to my dad."

Lupin smiled.

"Actually, I was going to say that you should go to Dumbledore. Good bye, Harry. Take care of yourself."

"I will," said Harry. He was yawning again. "You too, take care."

The last sight of Remus Lupin that Harry could catch was the outline of his smile as his former professor waved good-bye from the carriage's window.

When Harry awoke later that same day, the room that he was sharing with Ron, Neville, Dean and Seamus was empty except for him. Harry went straight into the shower. The water had a wonderful effect on his body temperature but not on his troubled mind. He was sure of only one thing: the second task would be the perfect opportunity for anyone to capture Neville. Yet Harry was sure that he could not use Polyjuice Potion to take Neville's place this time. Neville would not allow it. What then? Was he to take up the second task by force? Somehow, that did not sound right.

When Harry walked in the Common Room, he had hoped that it would be empty. He wanted nothing more than to sit in front of the fireplace, undisturbed, so that he might think about what lay ahead for him. Instead, his father was sitting there and amongst a fair few Christmas presents.

"Merry Christmas, son," he said gladly as Harry sat on the opposite couch. "You usually don't wait that long to open your presents, but I guess you have a good reason this year. Go on. Dig in."

Harry took a look around him. There were actually _a lot_ of presents. In fact, he was almost certain that Dudley had never had as much presents. He chose the one closest to him and started to unwrap it. It came from Sirius and it was a very strange dark detector in the shape of a compass. Harry's dad was looking at it apprehensively.

"Well he hasn't given up on you, has he?" said James Potter. "Sirius reckons that you can still improve your grades enough to get the required OWLs and become an Auror."

"It's a good plan," said Harry. He was searching into his father's face to find a sign of whether or not his dad wanted him to become an Auror. "Do you prefer being a teacher?"

"I believe I do," said James pensively. "Go on. Open your other presents, Harry."

The other parcels were containing various clothes that Harry suspected came from his mother.

"She's sleeping," said James when Harry asked where she was. "Tough night. I didn't want to wake her up, which reminds me that I needed your opinion on something."

Harry's dad pulled out a small blue and velvety box out of his pocket. He leaned closer to Harry and opened it. Tucked inside the box was a beautiful silver and gold necklace with elaborate twists and swirls. The pendant was in a familiar shape.

"It's a miniature Snitch," said Harry with wonder.

"Think your mom will like it?"

Harry smiled widely and rather fondly at his dad. "Yeah. It'll look great on her."

James Potter put the box and the necklace back into his pockets as Harry was reaching for another parcel that had a familiar shape as well. He unwrapped it quickly, but at the same time he was aware that his dad was watching him from the corner of his eye and rather anxiously.

"Now don't get mad at me, Harry," said James before Harry could say a word.

He was holding a Nimbus Two Thousand and Four. Its gleaming handle was a little straighter than the one of the Firebolt, but it was definitely a top-of-the-line broomstick.

"Nev seemed convinced that you would like it. I know that you don't like Quidditch, but that doesn't mean that you can never fly," said James Potter, sounding slightly nervous. "You'll like flying, and it's a very good broom."

Harry didn't know what to reply. He couldn't explain it. His father had seemed so cold and distant at first, and then Harry had almost decided to hate him because of how he had treated Lupin. Why did he have this new emotion then? Why did he have a lump in his throat as though he was going to cry?

"Well, do you like it?" asked his father fretfully. "I can understand if you don't want it."

"No, it's great," said Harry, fighting hard to keep his voice steady. "We… err… could maybe play Quidditch together… sometime."

At that moment, his father gave him such a look that all the worries about the Triwizard Tournament and Voldemort's return seemed to fade away.

"Whenever you want," said his dad.

Harry spent the next two hours sitting with his dad, opening presents, talking, laughing, opening more presents, trying on clothes on top of his pyjamas, and enjoying every minute. There was no mention of a werewolf or Boggart or Dementor. When the Common Room started to fill up with students, James called in a few House Elves and asked them to bring breakfast up to the Gryffindor Common Room. Soon, all of the Gryffindors were sitting with a glass of orange juice and a bowl of cereals between their knees and sharing their best memories of the Yule Ball or showing off their Christmas presents. Ginny took a seat next to Harry and close to the fireplace. There was glitter on her hair still. Ron and Neville spent a fair amount of time examining Harry's new broomstick with great enthusiasm.

It was almost noon when Harry's dad left the Common Room. Most of the students were dressed now and even had their coats on. Visits to Hogsmead were permitted on Christmas Day, Harry realised.

He turned to Ginny who was rummaging through the pages of "The Art of Defence: What to do when your wand is out of reach" which Sirius had given him. Along with Neville, they were the only ones not dressed yet.

"Going to Hogsmead?" he asked Ginny. The Christmas spirit had definitely improved his mood. He felt like inviting her to join him for a Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks.

"Neville and I are going to try to figure out the egg clue," she said absent-mindedly.

A stone seemed to drop in Harry's stomach.

"Right," he said.

He didn't want to argue. He still wasn't sure that Ginny had approved his taking on the first task in Neville's place.

"It's Christmas Day, Ginny," said Neville suddenly, taking the book away from her at once. "We still have time to figure out the clue. Let's go to Hogsmead."

Harry was very grateful that Neville had decided not to linger on the egg clue on Christmas Day. The weather was beautiful. The snow was light and the sun was out. Hogsmead was the most welcoming place in the world on Christmas Day, after Hogwarts. The streets were decorated with holy and red ribbons. A choir of snowmen was singing "Sleigh Ride" in front of Madam Rosemerta's pub. Harry saw Ron and Hermione, hand in hand, walking into Zonko's. Everyone seemed happy and kept shouting cheers at Neville. They spent all afternoon visiting every shop.

"I told your dad that you'd like a broomstick," said Neville a little too cheerfully, throwing a snowball at a nearby tree as they were walking slowly back to Hogwarts. "He was afraid that you wouldn't react well, but I told him you wouldn't. I'm really glad that things seem to be getting better between you two."

Ginny smiled. "Nev was really nervous about that," she added to Harry's ear.

"Well I was," agreed Neville. "Remember when he gave you the "Quidditch Anthology"? I mean, you threw the books out of the window."

Harry laughed. He couldn't imagine himself throwing anything out of the window in anger. It was simply ludicrous. It was like hearing the story of somebody else's life.

"Ginny told me about the snakes," said Neville uneasily. His tone had changed completely and it took Harry by surprise. He stopped walking and looked around. Ginny and Neville imitated him. They were alone.

"What do you reckon it means?" asked Ginny.

Both Neville and Ginny were now staring at him intensely. He merely shrugged and looked down at the snow and at his foot prints.

"I don't know what it means," he said truthfully. "It means that Voldemort is strong now. He's gathering the Death Eaters and the snakes to him."

"He can't come back," said Neville resolutely. "My dad's put all the Aurors on the case. The Death Eaters are all being watched."

"Those that we know of," Ginny corrected him.

"Dumbledore knows them all," retorted Neville even more convincingly. "He was at the trials thirteen years ago. They're watching even those that got off, including Lucius Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, Karkaroff, and more. My dad told me all about it. He says that we shouldn't worry."

"Are they watching Snape?" asked Harry.

Neville seemed to think for a moment.

"I don't recall him mentioning Snape. I can ask, though."

"Never mind," replied Harry a little more harshly than he had intended. He remembered how strongly Dumbledore had defended Snape's case in the Pensive, but he wasn't convinced of Snape's innocence.

"Snape's a git," said Ginny with conviction. "He hates Hogwarts. He's dead jealous of your dad and Sirius, but he's too much of a coward to attempt anything with people like Mr Longbottom and Mad-Eye Moody around."

A silence fell on all three of them. The faint echo of the choir of snowmen could be heard in the distance singing "Scarborough Fair".

"Do you still think that You-Know-Who wants to capture me?" asked Neville to Harry with the same uneasiness.

"I'm sure," answered Harry as convincingly as he could. The last thing that he needed now was for Neville to drop his guard.

Neville seemed to absorb the news with more ease than before.

"Fine," he said, resuming his walk at a fast pace. "Let him try. My parents will kick his butt all the way back to the graveyard."

Harry remained rooted on the spot. The mention of the graveyard had the effect of a snow ball impacting on his back. He had been trying hard to put that memory out of his mind.

He felt Ginny lay a hand on his arm.

"Harry, what is it?" she said softly to his ear.

Neville was already a good distance ahead of them. Harry looked at Ginny but couldn't say anything. He wanted to believe that they were well protected, that the Aurors had it all covered, that the tournament would end without Voldermort's return. However, a part of him knew that it was not possible. He had said the spell. It was his incantation that had created this reality. It would therefore be his burden to stop Voldemort, just as he had wished. He should have wished something else. He should have wished that none of it had ever happened. He should have wished that Voldemort had never existed.

"Out of the way! Out of the way, everyone! Harry! Ginny! DUCK!" a familiar voice suddenly yelled from behind them.

Harry and Ginny both turned around at once and saw Charlie Weasley and four other young men running towards them. They all had their wands out and were pointing at the sky.

"DUCK!" Charlie shouted again.

Ginny pulled Harry to the ground as the long silhouette of the Chinese Fireball swept over their heads.

"Stay down!" shouted Charlie as he ran pass them.

Harry remained flat on the cold snow as he was told. He could see the dragon flying fast, its body undulating in the sky; it was going towards Neville.

"No!" yelled Harry.

Suddenly, all was white around him as though a powdery snow had been swept off the ground at the passing of the dragon. Every sound had become muffled, no more than a murmur.

"Watch your friends more closely, Harry Potter," a voice said in his head.

He instantly recognised the strange effect that talking to dragons seemed to have on him. A few paces ahead, Neville was also laying flat on the snow on his belly, just as Harry and Ginny were, but with both of his hands over his head. Then Charlie and the other four young men directed their wands at the dragon. Harry did not hear what the spell was but they shouted all at once. The dragon's body curved instantly to avoid the five red blasts. It was hit only at the tip of its tail, but another blast immediately followed.

Harry tried to concentrate as best as he could, closing his eyes as he did so, and said in his head as though he was praying: "Leo, don't do that. Don't take Neville. _Please_."

"Look more closely," was the reply that filled his mind.

"Harry, look!" cried Ginny suddenly, her hand pointing at the trees. Her voice was only a murmur to Harry but the tone of urgency was undeniable.

There was a long and thin shadow slithering between the trees and going in Neville's direction. Harry realised that Leo was also circling towards that shadow, but now the spells directed at him by Charlie and the other dragon tamers was forcing him to recoil.

"Leo is not attacking Neville," thought Harry.

Ginny seemed to have also grasped what was really going on. Quickly, she got up and pulled Harry unto his feet.

"The trees," said Ginny. Harry could hear her more clearly now. "There's a snake! Leo is protecting Neville against a snake!"

Charlie and his colleagues did not appear to notice that Harry and Ginny were up and running towards the source of the danger. They were too busy with trying to immobilise the beast that was hovering over their heads. The dragon was sweeping down on the group now and they were replying with spells. They had not seen the snake that was menacingly close to Neville.

Harry took his wand out, pointed it at the snake and shouted as loud as he could: "_Serpente evanesca_!"

A high-pitched hissing noise filled his ears. It was the snake writhing in pain. It was a horrible sound, like nails scratching a blackboard, and Harry had to resist the urge to drop his wand and put his hands over his ears.

"Neville, move!" Ginny yelled.

Harry repeated the spell, concentrating on the creature and the magic that he was performing. He had heard Snape use this charm once against a snake when they had been practising duelling in his second year. It seemed to work even better the second time that Harry said it. They were close enough now and Harry could see the snake's body twisting in pain. It was a big snake, about four feet long, but not as big as Voldemort's servant snake Nagini.

Neville had seen the real threat now thanks to Ginny's warning and he was struggling unto his feet. When he had managed to put some distance between himself and the creature, Harry said the incantation once more.

At the third spell, the snake's body ignited and burst into flames. It was consumed rapidly and its ashes were swept away in a strong wisp of the wind. Harry's hand was trembling. He had not imagined that the charm would be so difficult to perform. He was almost as exhausted as the first time he had conjured a Patronus.

Suddenly, the ground rumbled under his feet as though there was an earthquake.

Harry wheeled around just in time to see the long glittering body of the dragon falling helplessly onto the soft snow, unanimated. The mist that had fallen on Harry's mind lifted and he finally heard the shouts that were directed at him and Ginny by the dragon slayers. Charlie was already taking Neville by the shoulders and leading him towards the castle hastily. Neville was pointing at the tree and Harry could hear him say very loudly: "It wasn't the dragon! There was a snake! Didn't you see the snake?"

"Oh no," whispered Ginny. "They've taken Leo."


	13. Chapter 13

PART THREE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: WHAT THE STARS SAY

If anything came out of the attack of the dragon on Neville, it was the extra protection that Frank Longbottom was providing. Aurors could be spotted at anytime around the school. Harry had heard from his father that Neville's dad had posted several more Aurors in Hogsmead as well. The comings and goings of the Durmstrang and Beaubatons students were carefully monitored. There were a lot of speculations now among the Hogwarts students as to why Nev Longbottom was being watched so closely and why he had been attacked. The most widely spread was that someone from either Durmstrang or Beaubatons was trying to sabotage the Triwizard Tournament. A few days after the attack, Harry and Ginny sat by the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room listening to Fred and George retelling with added details the assault on Nev Longbottom with particular emphasis on the "dragon's vengeful nature". The assumptions were ludicrous of course, but Harry doubted that anyone, even the Longbottoms, would believe the real story if he told it, and Harry had to admit that he felt a little safer knowing that the Aurors were keeping an eye on practically everyone at Hogwarts. The Durmstrang Headmaster, Karkaroff, looked predominantly put off by the increase in security and he had compensated by personally escorting Viktor Krum as though he feared that the Durmstrang Champion might be the next victim.

Overall, this new activity in the school was not helping Harry feel less nervous about the upcoming Second Task. The Aurors were certainly not going to follow Neville down into the depth of the Black Lake, and Harry was not sure how he could protect Neville this time around. As a result, he had a very hard time to concentrate in any of his classes, which wasn't much of a problem because he taken these classes before.

"You're going to die this week, Harry," said Neville dully.

It was a pale morning and they were sitting in pairs in Professor Trelawney's heavily perfumed Divination class. Neville had just finished drawing Harry's star chart and he was examining it as best as he could, his textbook opened on his knees.

"You've got a lunar cycle going on or something," he continued, looking at the chart sideways.

But Harry was not paying attention to Neville's analysis. He was absorbed with a conversation that was taking place a few tables ahead of him.

"Ron, you're making this up! Stop being silly!" said a giggling and girlish voice.

It was Hermione. Harry could see her from where he was. She was sitting with Ron. Apparently, she had not given up Divination in her third year. Ron was bent over Hermione's star chart and kept making funny predictions involving her playing Quidditch and winning Gryffindor the House Cup. Hermione had both her hands clasped over her mouth in an attempt to stop laughing. Professor Trelawney was too occupied with Lavender and Pavarti to notice anything. Harry only wished that he had chosen a table next to Ron and Hermione so that he could have a laugh with them. Neville was taking Divination too seriously for Harry's taste. His only escape from the dull task of making up Nev's star chart had been to eavesdrop on Ron and Hermione. He didn't feel guilty at all for not paying attention in class. This was material that he had learned before and surprisingly, he could remember enough to justify not listening or practising at all.

"This planet means that you're starting a quest," Neville was saying again, "but what I'm not clear on is how you're starting a quest if you die first."

Neville was flipping the pages of "Unfogging the Future" with what Harry thought was unnecessary determination.

"The moon stands for rebirth," offered Harry with mild interest. "It's a cycle thing; birth, death, and then rebirth."

Neville looked up from his textbook to stare at him.

"Are you making this up?" he asked suspiciously.

"Nop," said Harry, half-amused at his own knowledge of Divination. "It's in the book."

Hermione was now bent over low and speaking quietly to Ron. Harry could no longer hear their conversation properly. He let out a sigh and returned his attention to Neville's star chart.

"You ought to stop doing that," said Neville quietly, his nose back in the textbook.

"Do what?"

"Staring."

"Staring at what?"

Neville threw him one exasperated look, put the textbook on the table so that he could lean in closer, and started to stare at Harry meaningfully.

"Stare at _you_?" said Harry irritably. If this was Neville's attempt at a joke, it wasn't very amusing.

"Not _me_," murmured Neville. "Granger. You're always staring at _her_."

Harry glanced over at Ron and Hermione. It was true that he was always keeping an eye out for them. He was just missing his friends. But he most certainly was not staring at Hermione in particular.

"You think I like Hermione?" Harry asked Neville a little more severely than he intended to. He tried to remind himself that Neville couldn't understand his situation, yet he couldn't help being frustrated at the accusation.

"Look, I don't care if you like Hermione Granger or not," said Neville dismissively, "but if you don't like Ginny anymore you ought to tell her."

"Like her? What are you talking about?" retorted Harry, his temper rising.

Far from recoiling, Neville seemed uncharacteristically determined to say what was on his mind.

"You invite her to the Yule Ball and then…"

"Then what?" replied Harry loudly, causing some of the other students to stare at him with interest.

"Then _nothing_," answered Neville. "You just act like it wasn't a big deal, but it was a big deal to her. She told me."

"What else did she tell you?"

"You told her you wanted to go just as _friends_. That's just lame, mate."

"Oh yeah?" said Harry, fighting against the urge to shout. "She tells you everything, does she? Then why don't _you_ go out with her?"

Then Harry got up, swung his schoolbag onto his shoulder, and stormed out of the classroom under the stares of the students and Professor Trelawney. As he was closing the door behind him, he heard the teacher say "Do not be alarmed, my dears. I _knew_ that this would happen," which did nothing to improve his mood.

"What was Neville talking about, anyway?" thought Harry angrily as he was going down the staircase two steps at the time. Ginny was his friend, nothing more. They had shared a special moment in the Prefect's bathroom, but Harry had been under the influence of Dragon Fever then. Surely, what he had felt was not linked to any romantic sentiment. He had been sick, that's all. And what was up with Neville? It was very odd of him to stand up to Harry like that.

"Watch it, Harry!"

He had almost bumped into Charlie Weasley.

"Sorry. Hi, Charlie," said Harry awkwardly.

He was very much aware that he should not be out of class at this time. Charlie appeared not to notice it. He looked distraught about something.

"Hi, Harry. I was just going to see Dumbledore."

"What for?"

Charlie stared at him.

"Sorry," said Harry, feeling somewhat out of place. "Not my business."

"It's OK," said Charlie, passing a nervous hand through his hair. "I guess your dad will tell you anyway. We lost him."

"Lost what?" asked Harry.

"We lost the dragon," said Charlie. "We thought that he was unconscious, but he tricked us. He's gone now."

Suddenly, Harry felt like smiling. It was like a bubble of happiness had inflated in his stomach. Leo was free again. Yet the look on Charlie's face was enough to stop him from showing too much joy.

"Fascinating creatures, dragons," said Charlie. Harry could tell that he was trying hard not too sound too disappointed. "Anyway, I have a long report to write now."

"For Dumbledore, you mean," said Harry with interest.

"No," said Charlie. "The report about the dragon is for the Ministry, but Dumbledore wanted to know about all those sighting of snakes on the school grounds and Hogsmead. He asked us to conduct a little investigation. Nev said that he saw a snake when the dragon attacked him, and then there was the chaos in your dad's classroom. But we didn't really find anything. There isn't the trace of a snake anywhere. Not one. They're all gone."

"What's the relationship between dragons and snakes?" asked Harry openly and with renewed interest. "I mean, there must be one."

This was perhaps his only chance to talk to an expert on dragons freely. He decided to cease the opportunity.

Charlie looked taken aback by the question. A shadow seemed to pass over his face for a short moment as though he was being forced to think about something that he would rather not discuss.

"There's a relationship, that much is sure," said Charlie after a moment of reflection. He seemed to be searching his brain for the correct answer to give to Harry. "They're enemies," he concluded.

"Enemies?" repeated Harry. This explanation was making a lot of sense to him for reasons that Charlie could not guess, but he needed to find out as much as he could.

"They used to be as one, dragons and snakes," explained Charlie, "like cousins or even brothers. Then something changed. It's not clear what changed. One's thing sure, though."

"What's sure?"

"When You-Know-Who was in power, the snakes were his allies, and the dragons were not. Dragons aren't anyone's slaves. They do whatever they want and they follow their own rules. As for snakes… well You-Know-Who was a Parselmouth and they always follow a Parselmouth. Dragons aren't that easy to sway."

Ideas were now rushing in Harry's mind. Leo had saved him from a snake. He had saved Neville as well. In fact, Leo had chosen to help. If dragons could not be controlled by Voldemort as the snakes were, it meant that there was a possibility that the dragons might join forces with Dumbledore and the others against the Dark Lord. It was a very hopeful thought for Harry. He was suddenly imagining Dumbledore at the head of an army of wild and fierce dragons throwing fire at scared-looking Death Eaters.

Another question suddenly burst in Harry's mind.

"Has anyone ever spoken with a dragon?" he inquired, recalling his own experience.

"Dragons don't talk. Some say that have some mind powers, but it's not proven. Mostly, dragons roar and cough up fire. Try to remember that the next time one of them flies over your head, Potter," said Charlie with a playful tone that reminded Harry of Mr Weasley.

As he had been saying this, some first-year students had come out of a nearby classroom and were starting to eye Charlie with great interest. Very soon, the corridor would be filled with more students coming down to lunch. Harry was forced to remember that he was mad at Neville, and that he had left Divination more rapidly than he should have. He began to wonder how long it would be until his father learned about how he had lost his temper in class.

"Well, I'd better dash," said Charlie, which brought Harry out of his reverie. "Dumbledore is waiting. See you, Harry."

"Bye, Charlie," replied Harry loudly over the voices of the other students. "Thanks for the chat."

"Stay out of trouble, Potter," cried out Charlie as he started to climb up the staircase.

There were now so many students in the corridor that Harry had no other choice but to follow the flow towards the Great Hall.

"It's Charlie Weasley. He's one of the dragon slayers. He was a Gryffindor when he was at Hogwarts. Why he is telling you to stay out of trouble, Harry?" said a girl's voice. Harry instantly recognised Neville's sister. She was leading a group of small girls who all looked deeply impressed that she knew so many people. Harry's temper rose again to the level it had been when he had left Divination class.

"Give me a break, El," he retorted while trying to nudge his way in another direction.

He had to shoulder a few people just to get across the corridor and back to the staircases, but he wasn't really sure where he was going. He was still too upset at Neville to go into the Great Hall and sit with him for lunch. Ginny would also be sitting at the table. Harry wasn't sure what to tell her anymore. What if she did fancy him?

After making it to the bottom of the staircases, he changed his course again and headed off towards the courtyard and the bridge outside. It took several minutes just to get across the Entrance Hall which was filling with students, but once outside the castle, the way was clear and almost deserted. The air was cold but thankfully the sun was warm. He dropped his bag at his feet and started to stare dreamily at the view, leaning on the rim of the bridge.

He didn't know how long he stood there. He just had a lot on his mind: his parents, the dead Boggart, his father shouting at him, the Triwizard Tournament, the snakes and the dragon, the quarrel of James and Remus, Ron and Hermione dating, the Second Task, all of which came on top of the upcoming return of Voldemort that he could not discuss with anyone because no one would believe him. Overall, this new reality had turned out less than perfect.

"Harry?"

Harry did not need to turn around. He had recognised the voice of Ginny Weasley. She came closer to him and dropped her bag besides his.

"I heard from Hermione that you didn't like what the stars had to say about you."

Harry grinned but said nothing.

"I can tell that something is wrong," Ginny said quietly. "You can't keep it all bottled up inside forever."

Harry felt his temper rise again.

"Did Neville tell you that I shouted at him or something? Because I did."

"Why?"

"He was being stupid."

"He's worried, Harry, that's all," Ginny replied sharply. Harry could tell that she was edgy as well, but at least she wasn't shouting.

She leaned on the rim, imitating him. The wind was blowing her hair all around her face. Harry glanced at her rapidly from the corner of his eyes. She had the look of someone who had a lot on her mind as well.

"I'm worried too," she added after a short silence and Harry could swear that her tone had gone softer.

"You shouldn't worry about me," said Harry quietly. "I'm fine."

"I hate it when you say that," she said sharply again.

There was a silence again. They were still alone of the bridge. She was standing close to him, so close. For a split second, he imagined himself leaning in to kiss her, but at the same moment, he felt his invisible scar suddenly burn. Instinctively, he reached to his forehead with his finger tips.

"You're not fine," repeated Ginny. She was now staring at him, her eyes wide with concern. "Talk to me, Harry. Why don't you talk to me anymore?"

As she said this, Harry noticed that her voice sounded nervous. She was biting her lower lip with her teeth.

"We talk, Ginny," said Harry uneasily.

"Not like we used to," she replied.

"I guess… I guess I haven't been myself lately," said Harry.

He felt guilty now. Perhaps the Harry Potter that Ginny remembered had been a lot more opened with her. Perhaps they had been closer friends than what he had assumed while still being just friends. Was this what was bothering her?

"It's true you haven't been yourself," she said. "The stunt you pulled for the First Task, that was not you, Harry. You are a Gryffindor."

"Gryffindor and Parselmouth, what are the odds?" said Harry bitterly despite of himself.

Suddenly, Ginny pulled him by the shoulders and forced him to face her. He could see straight into her eyes now. They were wide and bright.

"You're not bad, Harry. You're not evil or cursed. Even if you were, I… I wouldn't care."

And she kissed him. It was a small and rapid kiss. Harry didn't know how to react. Was he supposed to kiss her again? Was he supposed to hold her? Why did he feel so warm? Was it because of the kiss or was he experiencing Dragon Fever again? He could just stare at her. The wind was blowing her hair all around them. There seemed to be no other sound in the world but the leaves on the trees and the blowing wind. Harry was stuck in this moment feeling cold and hot at once, his forehead prickling, his lips wet.

"About bloody time!"

Ginny wheeled around, breaking the stare between Harry and her. Neville was walking up to them, a large grin on his face. Harry felt his face grow very red; Ginny's was a lighter shade of pink.

"Hi, Nev," said Ginny at once.

"Sorry I had to be so tough on you, mate," said Neville to Harry when he came to level with them. "I just had to."

"You had to? I… What do you mean _tough_?" Harry blundered.

"I'm glad you made up your mind," said Neville happily and offering no more explanation. "We've got other things to worry about now," he added darkly.

"What?" asked Ginny, echoing what Harry was about to say.

"I've figured out the egg clue. Now I need you guys to help me find out how I'm going to breath under water for an hour," said Neville rapidly and glancing over his shoulder to make sure they were not being overheard.

Ginny clasped her hands over her mouth in astonishment, and then she jumped in excitement and nudged Neville on the shoulder.

"Nev, this is wonderful! How did you figure it out? Breathing under water! Don't worry. We'll think of something. Oh! I'm so proud of you right now!"

Harry couldn't help but grin. He felt his face return to its normal color as Ginny started to name a few spells that they should look into. He was glad that Neville had turned up and broken the silence. He was still not sure what he was supposed to do now that Ginny had kissed him.

As Neville was telling him and Ginny about the clue, Harry started to fully appreciate the fact that Neville had figured out the clue on his own. It was going to be easy now to prepare Neville for the Second Task. Harry already knew a few ways in which to breathe under water for an hour.

As they walked back to the castle, Neville related the story of how he had been to an underwater concert a few years ago. The sound that was coming out of the egg had been familiar to him because of that. He had thought to open the egg under water just a few days after Christmas. There was plenty of time now, according to Ginny, to figure out which charm or potion to use. As they were talking in hushed voices (there were several Beaubatons girls in the Entrance Hall), Ginny slipped her hand in Harry's and he held it tightly until they took separate ways on the staircases, going to their afternoon classes. After that, he convinced himself that he should concentrate on the Second Task exclusively, but his thoughts dwelled on Ginny for the remaining of the day.

When he went to bed that night, Harry was feeling very confident that nothing could happen in this task that he couldn't prepare Neville for. He knew about Grindylows, he knew where to get Gillyweed, and there was also plenty of time to learn the Bubblehead Charm. Harry only hoped that Neville wouldn't be so dumb as to wait until all three hostages were safe to come out of the water. If he hurried, he could actually finish first. Now that he was thinking about it, Harry was rather glad to be only a spectator this time. He would be watching the Second Task hand in hand with Ginny and, if he could manage it, they would be sitting besides Ron and Hermione.

"It's going to be great," said Harry hazily as he was pulling the covers up to his chin. "I mean, you'll be great, Neville."

"_Neville_?" Suddenly burst out the sleepy voice of Ron, snorting with suppressed laughter.

"Yes, _Ronald_?" retorted Neville sarcastically.

Then there began a fit of euphoria that took all five boys and continued well into the night.


	14. Chapter 14

PART THREE

CHAPTER FOURTHTEEN: WHAT THE MERPEOPLE TOOK

Every day, the Second Task was coming closer and still Neville had not managed to produce a satisfactory Bubblehead Charm. He kept sneezing which was causing the bubble over his nose and mouth to burst into tiny drops of vapour. But they were practising in the Prefect's bathroom and Harry was convinced that Neville's sneezing was due to the heavy perfumes that filled the room.

"You'll be alright in the lake," he said hopefully to Neville as they were wiping the humidity off their faces one evening. "Just in case, though, we have a plan B."

"I really think the Bubblehead Charm's my best bet," said Neville nervously.

"Maybe," replied Harry. "I'm still going to have some Gillyweed handy just in case."

He would have preferred Gillyweed to be the first option, but Neville was firmly against it. He didn't seem to like the idea of having gills and fins for an hour. But Harry had still stolen some Gillyweed from Snape's cabinet during their last Potions class and he was intending to bring it along just in case Neville could not perform the Bubblehead Charm perfectly on time for the task. The Gillyweed was sealed in an empty ink bottle that he kept it in his pocket at all times.

A week before the Task, Neville asked Harry's dad if they could use the Defence against the Dark Arts classroom to practice Stunning Spells which could prove useful against Grindylows. James Potter was so glad that Neville was getting good preparation, and from his son nonetheless, that he could not refuse. Surprisingly, Neville was quite good at Stunning Spells. After a few days, he could reach every target at a considerable distance.

"My dad's taught me," he explained to Harry after Stunning a spider that was now lying flat on its belly as though it was dead.

"It's very good," said Harry happily. "Now you have more time for you Bubblehead Charm."

"I wonder what they've taken, though," said Neville pensively.

"Err… It must be a treasure of some sort," answered Harry uneasily.

In Harry's mind, it was quite clear who the Merpeople's hostages were going to be. Viktor Krum's friend Elisa Lord had arrived the previous evening saying that she had been given a special permission to attend to the Second Task. Harry had immediately thought that she had been selected to be Krum's hostage in the Black Lake. Fleur Delacour and Neville would both be rescuing their sisters: Gabrielle Delacour and Eleanor Longbottom.

"Why don't you try that Bubblehead Charm again?" said Harry quickly before Neville could wonder more about what would happen in the Black Lake.

Neville took out his wand, pointed it to his mouth, then made a sort of loop with the tip of his wand and a transparent bubble erupted to cover half of his face.

"Don't sneeze," said Harry warningly.

Neville raised both his hands and started a countdown on his fingers from ten to one, then he pointed his wand at the bubble and it evaporated instantly on his command.

"That's it," he said, short of breath. "It didn't burst."

"I think you did it," said Harry with a large grin on his face.

Harry was so relieved that Neville could now perform the Bubblehead Charm that all his other worries seemed to vanish away. Everything finally seemed to be falling into place, for the Second Task at least. He didn't want to think about what lay ahead next. "One thing at the time," he kept reminding himself as he was walking up the stairs towards the Gryffindor Common Room the evening before the Second Task.

"Harry! Neville just told me!"

It was Ginny. She was running up the stairs. When she caught up with him, she instantly slipped her hand into his, as it had now become her habit. Harry squeezed it gently in response.

"I guess Nev won't need Gillyweed after all," she said, smiling broadly. "A good night's rest and he will be as ready as he'll ever be."

"I really think he can pull it off," replied Harry quietly to make sure they were not being overheard. "Grindylows won't be a problem," he continued to say in a lower voice. "He can Stun them easily; I've seen him do it with smaller targets. Ginny, he has a chance to take the lead."

"I'll be happy if he just makes it out of the Third Task alive," Ginny replied gravely. "With Dumbledore watching, I don't think he's really in any danger, you know, but still I'd sleep better if…"

She couldn't finish her sentence. Harry had sealed her lips with a kiss, never letting go of her hand.

"You didn't have to do that," Ginny whispered, looking around shyly at the other Gryffindor students that were passing by.

"I did," said Harry, staring at her. "I wanted to."

It had just occurred to him how easy it was to talk to Ginny. She seemed to know his every thought, to understand him better than anyone. He wanted to spend more time with her. How he regretted to have missed that final dance at the Yule Ball. He wanted to make it up to her.

"I want to go a on a date with you," he said at last.

She smiled.

"There will be a Hogsmead visit after the Second Task," she replied. "Easter weekend or earlier. Let's do something then."

She kissed him on the forehead and walked away, releasing his hand only when they were no longer within arms' reach. She disappeared in a crowd of third year Gryffindors who were walking through the portrait hole. Harry remained behind, leaning on the rim of the staircases, gazing dreamily at the moving crowd below.

"A moment of your time, Potter?" called a familiar voice a few steps away from him.

It was Professor McGonnagal. Harry straightened up and turned around. To his surprise, Elisa Lord was following the Deputy Headmistress, wearing what appeared to be her school's robes. It was a below-the-knee length grey skirt with high burgundy boots. She also wore a white top with large sleeves and a heavy dark blue cloak thrown on her shoulders with a white Fleur-de-Lys blazon on the right side.

"You will accompany me and Miss Lord to the Headmaster's office, if you please, Mr Potter."

It was all too clear. It was the evening before the Task. Professor McGonnagal was gathering the hostages together. But why him ? It didn't make sense. Yet he couldn't say anything but a nervous "Yes, Professor," as he followed her and Elisa down the staircases and along the corridor leading to Dumbledore's office. Elisa threw him a few inquiring looks, but Harry kept looking straight ahead, ignoring her completely.

"Butterbeer," said McGonnagal when they arrived at the statue. The secret door was revealed and Harry soon found himself facing the door to Dumbledore's office.

He had not expected to find that many people assembled there. Mr and Mrs Longbottom were standing besides Dumbledore's desk, and so were Harry's parents. Karkaroff stood apart from the rest and seemed deep in conversation with Snape. Madam Maxim was also in the room. She was laying a protective hand on the shoulders of a beautiful blond girl that Harry recognised immediately as Gabrielle Delacour, Fleur's sister. Finally, Bartemius Crouch was sitting on a chair, next to the wall, and looking quite disconnected from the discussion at hand.

"James, I cannot possibly let Eleanor go down there where I can't watch them both," said Frank Longbottom as McGonnagal was hushing Harry and Elisa forward into the crowded office. "We've been through this. My decision is final."

Harry could feel his heart pounding in his chest. If Neville was not going to rescue Eleanor, then…

"Frank, can't you think of someone else?" said Lily Potter. Her voice sounded uncommonly off, in Harry's opinion, and she looked paler than usual. Harry's dad bent over to whisper something to her ears. Harry thought he saw her press her lips together as though she was trying to stop herself from saying more.

"There you are, Harry," said Dumbledore loud enough to cover the voices of everyone else in the room. "And Miss Lord, of course. Welcome back to Hogwarts."

Harry distinctively saw Karkaroff throw one unfriendly look at Elisa, but the young Canadian girl seemed totally unconcerned by it.

"Are we going to be participating in the Second Task, Headmaster?" she asked, staring at Dumbledore.

"Absolutely," said Dumbledore. "You, the young Miss Delacour, and Mr Potter have been chosen for your affinities with the three Champions."

"We're what the Merpeople have stolen!" said Elisa in a triumphant voice. "The Champions have to rescue us! It's a test of bravery," she concluded. Then, seeing how the teachers in the room were staring at her, she added, blushing: "Viktor told me the song."

"But why me?" Harry asked openly. He thought of the ink bottle full of Gillyweed in his pocket. What if Neville couldn't produce the Bubblehead Charm? What if he was too nervous to do it?

"Well, Harry," said Frank Longbottom happily which was a contrast to the tone he had been using a minute before, "you are Nev's best friend since you started Hogwarts together. It's a logical choice."

Mr Longbottom was right, of course. It was indeed a rational choice. After all, Ron had been Harry's hostage to rescue. "If only I had thought about it before," thought Harry bitterly. "I would have given the Gillyweed to Ginny…"

"It's a logical choice to you," replied Lily Potter so that she caught the attention of everyone in the room. Her eyes were watery. She looked on the verge of tears and angry all at once. Harry had never seen her so shaken.

Before she could say another word, James ceased her by the shoulders and forced her to face him. He threw a rapid look at Dumbledore and started to whisper words of comfort to her again, pulling her apart from the others as he did so. Harry couldn't hear what they were saying, but he felt slightly annoyed that his parents were so protective of him. He knew that he was not going to be in any danger down in the lake. He couldn't understand why his mother was reacting so strongly. Then again, he had never had parents before. Perhaps this was a normal reaction, he wondered.

"The choice," said Dumbledore, breaking the silence, "belongs those who are about to participate. So what do you say, Miss Delacour?"

Madam Maxim murmured something in French in Gabrielle Delacour's ears, after which the young girl nodded positively.

Elisa Lord didn't wait for Dumbledore to repeat the question.

"Just tell me what I have to do, Headmaster," she said excitedly.

Then all eyes turned to Harry.

"You can count me in, Professor," he said as convincingly as he could.

A few minutes later, his mother kissed him on the forehead and all went dark as he fell into a dreamless sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

PART THREE

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: WATER AND BLOOD

A cold shiver ran through Harry's entire body as though tiny needles were piercing his skin, reaching his bones, shaking him to wakefulness.

"Harry! Harry, wake up! HARRY! "

Harry's eyes shot open. There was water into his lungs and mouth. He started to cough madly, rolling on his side. He was on the grass. Why was he on the grass, and not on the platform in the middle of the lake? His hands looked ghostly white. He was shivering all over.

"Neville?" he called, his senses returning. His hand was already gripping at his wand in alarm.

"Harry, run! Harry, no!" cried Neville.

"Kill the spare!" suddenly shouted an adult's voice. It was a voice that Harry recognised all too well.

Harry only had time to look up to see Peter Pettigrew, Wormtail, raise his wand.

"Avada…" he said.

Harry was quicker than he would have thought possible, cold as he was. Still laying flat on his belly, he shot his wand hand in front of him and cried as loud as he could: "Expelliarmus!"

Wormtail's wand flew into the air. Short as he was, the rat-like man almost tripped over himself to try and catch it as it fell a few feet away from him.

Harry rapidly rolled out of the way, forcing his legs to pull him up, looking desperately around for cover. He fell on his knees behind a big rock. One of his feet hit the water as he did so. He shot a quick look behind him. They were on the shoreline of the lake, but the platforms set up for the Second Task were so far away and the weather was so ghastly it was impossible to see them.

"You, idiot!" shouted the other man. "We don't want any witness. Kill him or I will kill you myself."

"Harry, no!" Neville screamed.

Then Harry heard a thud and something heavy fall to the ground. He looked up from behind the rock in time to see Neville's body fall limply at the feet of Barty Crouch Junior. Kneeling on the ground besides him was Wormtail who was patting the floor for his wand. His fingers were almost on it.

"Accio wand!" called Harry. Wormtail's wand immediately shot in his direction and Harry grabbed it in mid-air.

"Stupefy!" cried Crouch, stepping over Neville's unconscious form as he did so.

The rock suddenly burst into bits and Harry had to fling himself out of the way. He felt several sharp pieces of the rock hit him on the head and blood trickling down his neck. Still clutching his and Wormtail's wand, he managed to crawl behind another rock that was significantly smaller, but closer to the trees.

"Well done, Harry Potter," said Crouch. "You're better than I thought." He sounded oddly amused. He stepped forward, pushing Wormtail hard as he passed so that Pettigrew fell on his back. "Forget it. I'll kill him myself. Watch the other one."

Wormtail didn't reply anything and merely watched from where he lay as Barty Crouch advanced on Harry.

"I will enjoy killing you, Potter," said Crouch with a twisted smile. "Your parents have given me enough trouble. Consider it payback time. Avada…"

"Stupefy!" cried Harry, pointing his wand at Crouch's chest while remaining half-concealed by the rock.

Crouch stepped aside in a fraction of a second and the spell hit a tree behind him with a loud crack.

"You can't escape what's coming to you, Potter," said Crouch in a shrilled voice and with the same twisted smile that Harry had seen before. "You'll only be the first. Then it will be your Mudblood mother and all your filthy little friends!"

"Not if I can help it!" cried Harry. His own voice sounded full of rage. He leapt out from behind the rock and yelled "Expelliarmus!", but Crouch was too fast. With a movement of his wand, he blocked the spell with an alarming easiness.

Harry wheeled around to his left and hid behind a tree, his mind racing. Crouch was too strong. What was he to do? Then the answer came to him. He shot his wand in the air and shouted: "Periculum!" With all the Aurors patrolling around the school, someone was bound to see the sign. However, his hopes died away when the red light vanished before it could even rise over the height of the trees. Crouch had anticipated his move and stopped the spell in mid-air.

"No one will come to save you, Potter; not your parents, not Dumbledore. You are mine to finish. And I do believe that I will take my time."

"But we don't have time, Crouch," said the shaky voice of Wormtail. "Finish him and let's go now. And don't forget my wand."

Wormtail's interruption had given Harry enough time to move swiftly behind another tree, a bigger one. From where he was, he could see Neville and Wormtail. But how were they going to escape? What was Wormtail and Crouch's plan? Apparition was impossible on Hogwarts grounds. How had Crouch, disguised as Mad-Eye Moody, done it during the maze the first time? Then the answer hit him.

"They have a Portkey," Harry said quietly to himself. "But what does it look like?"

He didn't have the opportunity to look any further. Crouch was a few steps from him. He could hear him approaching on his left side.

"Hello, Potter," said Crouch. He had grabbed at Harry's neck from the right side, unexpectedly.

Harry struggled against the strong grip. His throat was being crushed. He couldn't breathe. Crouch was holding him against the tree with one hand and had his wand firmly pointing at Harry's chest.

"Let's go!" Wormtail yelled, his voice trembling impatiently.

Harry was feeling the blackness coming. He was about to pass out.

"Harry, no! Don't kill him, please!" a feeble voice said a few feet away. It was Neville.

Harry's mind swam into place. He rose his wand, and, just as Crouch was about to say the Killing Curse, he thought very hard about the most happy memory he could think of. His lips said the words but no sound came out, and yet…

The Patronus that came out of Harry's wand hit Crouch like a bolt of lightening. He went flying into the lakeshore, falling in the cold water on his back. But Crouch wasn't unconscious. He was already getting back on his feet. Harry turned around, looking for Neville, but he had taken his eyes away from Crouch a second too long. The spell hit Harry on the side and he fell on the ground at once. It was the Cruciatus Curse. He knew it. He had felt pain like this before. His entire body was shaking. From the corner of his eye, he saw Crouch approaching, his wand aiming at him.

"Stupefy!" Harry heard Neville's voice say.

Crouch stepped backwards as the spell hit him in the stomach. Neville was running towards Harry, wand at the ready.

"Get away from here, Neville!" cried Harry desperately.

"Stupefy!" Crouch yelled, his wand directed at Neville.

But as Crouch said this, Harry pulled his leg in a wide kick that knocked him out of balance, sending the spell into the pale sky as Barty Crouch fell on his back. Wormtail followed Harry's gaze in the direction of the spell. The sky became momentarily illuminated by the jet of red light. Harry could read in Pettigrew's face that he had realised what had happened: they had just informed a lot of people of their whereabouts.

Neville was motionless, rooted on the spot. He too was watching the sky. Harry rolled on his back, facing Crouch who was struggling to his feet, and cried "Expelliarmus!" It worked. Crouch's wand went flying into the air and landed on the edge of the lakeshore. Crouch was without a weapon and holding his hand as though it was hurt. Harry ceased the opportunity to cast another spell.

"Petrificus Totalus!" he cried and Crouch's body became rigid and fell to the ground. Harry scrambled to his feet and turned around.

"You got him, Harry!" Neville said.

"Neville, look behind you!" Harry screamed in horror.

There was nothing he could do. Harry saw Pettigrew raise a dagger behind Neville's back. The look of pain on Neville's face made Harry's stomach tighten. Neville fell on his knees, dropping his wand, leaning on the ground on both hands before falling flat on his belly, unconscious.

Wormtail was now holding the dagger, which was shinning with blood, in one hand and Neville's wand on the other. Harry heard him say "Accio Portkey", something small shot towards him, and he was gone.

Harry immediately went to Neville's side, fearing for the worst. Neville was motionless, laying flat on his belly, blood trickling on his right arm. Harry could hear him breathing, but he had no way of knowing how deep the wound was.

"Periculum!" Harry shouted, pointing his wand at the sky. "Hurry," he thought. "Please, hurry…"

No sooner had he thought this that two figures arrived at great speed, flying from across the lake on broomsticks, and landed on the shore at the level where Harry and Neville were. It was Frank Longbottom and James Potter. Both had the gravest, most worried expression Harry had ever seen.

"Hurry!" cried Harry desperately, still at his friend's side. "Neville is badly hurt."

"Nev!" cried Mr Longbottom, running towards his son. "What happened? Dear Lord!"

He tore Neville's shirt with his wand to reveal a nasty, deep wound on Nev's right shoulder blade. Mr Longbottom's hands were trembling so much he could hardly make any movement.

"We've… got to… apply pressure…" he said shakily.

"I'll do it," said James, gently pushing the Head Auror aside and pulling Neville's body unto his knees. He put his hand on Neville's back and started to press as hard as possible.

"Harry, are you alright?" asked James, looking Harry into the eyes.

"Yes, I'm OK," said Harry, vaguely aware that he was dirty and wet and that he must have a few fair cuts on his face and arms.

But he didn't care about that. There was no time. If only his dad and Mr Longbottom had arrived a minute earlier…

"It was Wormtail and Barty Crouch Junior," he explained. "They attacked Neville. They needed his blood."

"What nonsense is that?" Neville's dad said at the top of his voice. "Do you expect us to believe…?"

But Harry was pointing at the limp body of Crouch Junior a few feet away on the lakeshore. Frank Longbottom got up to have a better look.

"It's not possible," said the Head Auror, passing a hand on his forehead. He sounded weak and fell unto his knees again. Then he ceased Harry by the shoulders, shaking him.

"What are you saying? What exactly happened here? Who did this to my son?"

"Shut up, Frank," said James, raising his voice in alarm. "We'll sort it out later. It's not working." His hands were covered in Neville's blood. "We need help. We need a Healer."

"I'll… I'll go…" said Neville's dad. He looked paler than ever.

"I'll go," said Harry at once.

"Harry…" said his dad quietly and with concern.

"I'm OK. Help Neville."

And he ran towards his dad's broomstick and mounted it as rapidly as he could. Without so much as an afterthought, he was in the air, speeding towards the platforms, cold wind brushing against his face.

He had to talk to Dumbledore. He had to tell him what happened; Dumbledore first, and no one else. Wormtail had Neville's blood. The blood of an enemy. If Voldemort had all of the other ingredients that he needed for his return, then it was a matter of minutes. They had a chance to stop it if they could get Crouch to reveal their hideout. They needed to find that graveyard and stop Voldemort's return. There was so very little time now…

As he thought this, pain suddenly hit him. His forehead was burning horribly. It was so intense that he had to pull the broomstick to a stop momentarily. He passed a hand over his brows, trying to steady himself on the broom. The platforms were near. He could see their outlines. He was almost there.

Struggling against the pain, he pulled the broomstick up again, but he knew what the pain meant. Wormtail had wasted no time. The potion must have been almost ready and waiting for the final ingredient. The throbbing was increasing. It was blinding him. He could not see the platforms anymore. His feet were brushing the water. He was slowing down.

And then, just when he thought that it couldn't get worst, his forehead exploded with renewed pain. He felt his hands loose their grip on the broom. He didn't know how far still he was from the platforms when he hit the water. The lake was icy cold. It froze his body instantly. The water filled his nose and mouth. His robes were pulling him down.

The last thing he thought was how much he had utterly failed, as he was slowly descending into the cold, dark depth of the Black Lake.


	16. Chapter 16

PART FOUR

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: VERITASERUM

"Wormtail, what did you do?" shrieked a cold, piercing voice. It was screeching in Harry's head like nails on a blackboard.

"Master, I'm sorry! Crouch wanted to kill the other one. He… He wasted time. This was all I could get," was the small and pleading reply of Wormtail who was clutching his bleeding arm with a look of horror on his face.

"Fool! You brought the wrong blood. I told you the boy was everything! Look at me now!"

And then, through his mind's eyes, Harry saw him. It was as though Voldemort's body was only half formed. His arms were unusually thin and short compared to the rest of his body. The fingers on his hands were slim like ten small snakes. It didn't seem like his legs could support his weight because he was bent down, standing on his knees. His head was shinning and white like a skull. His face was devoid of any human expression or traits. His eyes, nose and mouth were nothing more than small slits. He was neither man nor snake.

"Hand me back my wand, Wormtail," said Voldemort through clenched teeth. His voice was hissing like a serpent's tongue.

"Master, I'm sorry," Pettigrew kept weeping, but he knew, as Harry did, that he could not escape Voldemort's wrath. Punishment was inevitable.

"Harry, breathe," said another, soft, familiar voice in Harry's ears, like an echo.

But Voldemort's words were ringing again in Harry's head, louder and angrier: "You brought the wrong blood, Wormtail. You have been deceived."

"Please, breathe. Please…" It was the same distant call, a woman's voice. Harry knew her.

"Master, it was the Longbottom boy's blood. It was him. I saw his scar!" cried Wormtail, falling on his knees.

There was pain in Harry's lungs now. Someone was pressing hard on his ribs. Lights were passing in front of his eyes like tiny stars. The woman was calling his name. But he couldn't wake up just yet: he had to know first why it had not worked with Neville's blood.

"Yes, Wormtail. It was a cheap trick. I know. But the thing is: you lost me my servant."

"HARRY, BREATHE!"

He couldn't take it anymore. His lungs were on fire. The moment where he thought this, his eyes snapped open and he was sputtering and grasping for air. Someone pulled him onto his side and he coughed up more water onto the wooden platform. He felt a warm blanket being laid on his back. He was cold and shivering, hardly aware of where he was. His scar was still throbbing. "Something has gone wrong, terribly wrong," he thought dreadfully. "Voldemort is not pleased."

"It's OK now, sweetheart. Take it easy. You almost drowned."

"It didn't work…" said Harry, trying to sit up. He was face to face with his mother. The words had come out in one breath. He had spoken his thoughts out loud without realising it.

"What didn't work?" his mother said with concern, putting another blanket around his shoulders and robbing his back feverishly.

Even if he told her, there was no way that she could understand. No one could understand what had just happened. No one, except…

"Dumbledore," he said between two intakes of air. "I need to speak to Dumbledore."

As he said this, this forehead burst with pain for the second time. He bent over, burying his face with his hands, gritting his teeth to avoid screaming. Wormtail was being punished, he knew it. He could feel the outline of the lightning scar on his forehead even though he knew that it wasn't there. It was burning like a hot poker pressed unto his skin.

"Harry, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Talk to me," said his mother in distress.

"It wasn't Neville's blood he needed," he said quietly, robbing his forehead as though trying to erase the pain.

Then, looking up, he saw an expression that he did not expect: there was understanding in his mother's face. They were staring at each other. Her eyes were wide and apprehensive. "She _knows_ what I'm talking about," thought Harry with wonder.

"Harry, who was it? Who needed Nev's blood?" she murmured so that only he could hear.

"Voldemort," said Harry at once.

"It wasn't Neville's blood he needed," she repeated, but her tone was different. It was an assertion, as though she was stating an unspeakable truth. There was fear in her eyes as she said it, but her tone was nevertheless resolute.

Dumbledore's voice caught Harry's ears. He was announcing that Viktor Krum had been awarded the first place. Bu it was not important to Harry anymore. All he wanted now was to hear the truth from his mother.

"You're right," she said decisively. "We have to speak to Dumbledore. We should have done that a long time ago."

About half an hour later, Harry was sitting comfortably on a comfy chair in Dumbledore's office. Fawkes the Phoenix was snoozing gently on his right. His mother had dried Harry's clothes with her wand, but still she was insisting that he kept a blanket over his shoulders. She was pacing up and down the office now, waiting for Dumbledore to arrive. She looked so worried.

"How did you find me?" asked Harry, breaking the silence.

"When we saw that James and Frank were not coming back after five minutes, Sirius and I went after them on our broomsticks. Then James asked if you were OK, and why we hadn't brought a Healer along. That's when we realised that you had never made it to the platform. I jumped on my broomstick and flew as fast as I could over the lake. I found James' broom floating all by itself, but no trace of you, so you had to have fallen into the water. I went back to the platform and told Dumbledore you were in the lake and not under the sleeping spell anymore. Dumbledore asked for the Merpeople's help to find you. It only took a minute, but you had already been under water a long time. It… it didn't look as if you were alive."

She took a deep breath before continuing, steadying herself.

"You weren't breathing, and you were so cold, but you had a pulse." She shook her head and pressed her lips together. "I did the only thing that came through my mind. It's not exactly a wizard-approved technique, but it worked."

She came to sit on the chair in front of him and kissed his head as she did. Harry could see that her eyes were red with tears now.

"Was it C.P.R.?" he inquired curiously, remembering the pressure he had felt on his rib cage.

She looked taken aback.

"How do you know about C.P.R.?" she said disbelievingly. "You don't take Muggle Studies."

Harry realised with a shock that in this changed reality he had been raised by a family of wizards, not Muggles. He shouldn't know about C.P.R., just like Ron didn't know about telephones.

"Err… I might have heard about it… somewhere…" he said hurriedly.

At that moment, the office door burst open to reveal James and Sirius closely followed by Dumbledore. Harry let out a sigh of relief. The conversation was dwelling towards a topic that he wanted to avoid for now.

"How's Nev?" asked Lily at once.

"He's going to be OK," said James, coming up to her and pulling her into a hug. "Frank and Alice are with him now," he added.

Harry felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Sirius.

"What I want to know," his godfather began to say, "is who put Barty Crouch Junior in that Body-Bind Curse because it was rightly done." Sirius was beaming proudly at Harry.

"What I want to know," cut in Harry's dad, "is how my son could recognise Crouch's son so accurately."

A tense silence fell in Dumbledore's office. The tone used by Harry's father was not reassuring; it was accusing. But what could he answer? They were all staring at him now. He felt his stomach tighten. He didn't have any reply, and they were all waiting for him to say something.

"How about some hot chocolate, Harry," Dumbledore said suddenly, rising from his seat.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said quietly as the Headmaster swept over to one of the many cabinets in his office. A few seconds later, he handed a large cup of fuming hot chocolate to Harry and swept back behind his desk.

"And the man who stabbed Nev, who was it, Harry?" said his father more loudly. His tone was condemning now, but Harry remained silent. He gulped his hot chocolate all at once instead. His mind was racing with the possible answers he might give, but he didn't know if any reply that he could come up with would be believable.

"James," said Lily. She sounded on the verge of tears. "How can you possibly accuse Harry like that?"

"Who was the other man, Harry?" asked James again, this time with force, and totally ignoring his wife.

"Peter Pettigrew. You used to call him Wormtail," said Harry right away.

The words had come out of his mouth unexpectedly, without his even thinking about them. He stared at his father in shock, than at the empty cup in his hands.

"Who are you?" said his father darkly. "You're not my son."

"I am!" replied Harry, again without delay. "I'm Harry Potter. I'm your son!"

Neither of his parents spoke. He glanced at Sirius, but his godfather was avoiding eye contact.

"Well, that much is settled, James," said Dumbledore evenly. "But perhaps you should let me do the questioning from now on, if you don't mind."

Harry saw his dad nod in Dumbledore's direction.

"You gave me Veritaserum," said Harry, now looking straight at Dumbledore.

"Indeed, I did, Harry," the Headmaster answered in the same even tone.

"But why?" asked Lily Potter, her voice shaking. Harry's dad was holding her firmly by the shoulders.

"For some time now," Dumbledore started to explain, "your father, Harry, has been suspicious that you might be under the influence of the Imperius Curse."

"Why didn't you tell me this?" cut in Harry's mother, pulling away from her husband's grasp.

"Because Harry talks to you, not to me," his father answered back, looking imploringly at his wife as though he would rather suffer a Dementor's kiss than betray her trust again. "I thought he might open up to you."

She showed no sign that she was forgiving him yet. She turned to Dumbledore instead, awaiting the next question with her arms folded on her chest.

"Do you know what the Imperius Curse is, Harry?" asked Dumbledore, bringing back the conversation to the topic at hand.

"Yes," replied Harry at once and despite of himself. "Professor Moody taught us the three Unforgivable Curses in class last year. But it wasn't really Moody; it was Crouch's son in disguise. He used Polyjuice Potion." He gasped as he realised with dread what he had just said, but he had been unable to stop himself.

"Can he lie under Veritaserum?" enquired James Potter, visibly at a lost.

"No, he cannot," said Dumbledore quietly. "Which class was that, Harry?"

"Defence Against the Dark Arts," said Harry, burying his face in his hands. "That's it," he thought bitterly. "It's all over now. I can't avoid telling them the whole story."

"It's not possible, Dumbledore!" burst in Harry's dad. "I've been teaching this class for four years."

"Harry," said Dumbledore gravely, "have you been to Hogwarts these last four years?"

"Yes," replied Harry. He realised that he was shaking.

"Have you known me for the last four years?" inquired Dumbledore again.

"Yes."

"Who am I?"

"Albus Dumbledore."

"When did you meet Sirius Black?"

"In my third year," said Harry weakly, the image of the shabbier, darker Sirius Black burst into his mind. "I thought that he was trying to kill me, but he was really after Wormtail."

Harry's dad made a sign to protest but Dumbledore stopped him with a glance.

"And your parents, when did you see them for the first time in flesh and blood?"

"At the Quidditch World Cup, before the start of the school" said Harry, aware that his voice was trembling.

He couldn't look at them. It was too hard. He was afraid that they would disappear. He couldn't bare the idea of loosing them once more. They were his parents. He had wanted to see them, to be with them, more than anything else in the world. Was that so bad?

"I see," said Dumbledore. He had visibly grasped something the others hadn't. "What exactly did you mean to change, Harry?" he asked at last.

"I wanted to stop Voldemort's return," replied Harry quickly. "I wanted to stop Wormtail from murdering Cedric Diggory. It was my fault… I told Cedric that we should take the cup together." The words were coming out fast, as though they were spilling out of his mind without a moment's delay. "I didn't want my name to come out of the Goblet of Fire. I wanted things to be different," he went on. "I wanted a family. I wanted to see my parents again. I wanted Sirius to be happy and free."

He had to stop to breathe. He felt a tear slide down his right cheek but wiped it quickly with his sleeve.

"What does this mean, Dumbledore?" said Sirius, seeing how speechless Harry's parents were.

"Time is a powerful thing," said Dumbledore calmly, his blue eyes staring directly at Harry. "When meddled with, it can be dangerous."

"I'm sorry, Professor!" Harry interrupted him. "I knew that. Hermione told me. I just… I wanted so much to change things."

"I do not think that you are to blame in this case, Harry," said Dumbledore elusively, rising from his seat. "And the damage might not be as irreversible as you think."

"He changed time?" said James, looking mortified. "But the consequences…"

"Did you say 'You-Know-Who's returns'?" joined in his mother, appalled.

"Yes," Harry whispered.

Dumbledore did not reply to Harry's parents. He swept over to a cabinet, and, pulling opened the wooden doors, revealed the stone basin that Harry recognised as the Pensive.

"First, Harry, I will need to know exactly how you did it," he said, stirring the content of the Pensive with the tip of his wand so that silver shadows started to move across it like wisps of smoke.

"It was a book," said Harry, furious with himself. "It was a stupid book. I don't know who sent it. I only remember parts of what I read in it. The cover said 'Turn back time. Live one year exactly as you wish it', or something like that."

Dumbledore was silent for a while. He seemed to think.

"Yes, of course," he said at last, more to himself than to the others in the room. He paused, and then said: "What we need to do now is to piece together your story to find out where the path that you were on was split in two."

"I don't understand," said Harry truthfully.

"Me neither, Dumbledore," added James Potter irritably. "Can we put things back the way they should be?"

"What happens to us in the past? What changed?" asked Lily to Dumbledore.

Harry was glad that the question had not been directed at him because, under the influence of Veritaserum as he was, he would have had to answer. He wasn't prepared to tell his parents that they were supposed to be dead. They had probably already guessed, but to say it out loud would make it final, unchangeable.

"That is what we are going to find out, my dear," said Dumbledore calmly. "Harry, if you don't mind, can you please think back about the night when you were attacked as a baby?"

Harry stood up and walked slowly towards the stone basin where Dumbledore was waiting patiently. He felt his parents and Sirius watching him. He could not look at them. He could only imagine the horror on his mother and father's faces, but to see it was more than he could bear.

"This will not hurt," said the Headmaster as he pulled out a silvery strand of smoke from the side of Harry's head and guided it towards the content of the Pensive. Harry closed his eyes as the memories were drifted towards the magical pool.

"I don't remember much," said Harry peering into the Pensive. The content was now filled with green light.

"What are you looking for?" asked Sirius, stepping closer to Dumbledore and leaning the Pensive as well.

"The missing link," replied Dumbledore simply.

He motioned Sirius and Harry to step away from the Pensive. Then, without any words spoken, the Headmaster began to stare at the content of the stone basin. It lasted several minutes during which the others remained silent.

At last, Dumbledore straightened up, facing Harry's parents.

"Lily, if you don't mind, I would need the memory of the night Voldemort attacked your house as well."

A little reluctantly, she stepped in closer to the Pensive. Dumbledore pressed the tip of his wand against the right side of her face and pulled out the same sort of strand of smoke which he dropped into the whirling pool.

"I do think that everything is set now," he said finally. "If you would all step closer to the Pensive, please."

And they did. James joined Lily and took her hand lovingly. She did not protest but she seemed rather apprehensive staring into the Pensive. Sirius walked up to Harry's side, but remained distant. Harry felt Dumbledore's hand pressed on his shoulder.

"We are about to go into your mother's memory," said Dumbledore quietly to him. "It will be disorienting."

"It's OK," said Harry, no longer surprised that the words were coming out of his mouth so rapidly. "I've been into the Pensive before. I saw Crouch's son being sent to Azkaban there."

"Sent to Azkaban?" asked Sirius innocently. "They never had a case against him. What did they accuse him of?"

"He tortured Neville's parents into insanity with the Cruciatus Curse," said Harry blankly.

"Good Lord," Sirius let out. "Frank and Alice, are they still…?"

But before Sirius could finish his question, Harry was being pulled down into the Pensive. The whirl of smoke made him dizzy. When the street lights and houses came into focus, he realised where he was, and the very idea of seeing this scene again filled him with dread.


	17. Chapter 17

PART FOUR

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: THE BOY WHO LIVED

The house in front of which they now stood was where he had encountered Voldemort for the very first time in his life. He had seen glimpses of it in dreams, over and over again, but never so clearly. Presently, there were lights inside, and movement. It was surreal.

"Do we have to see this again, Dumbledore?" asked James softly.

His wife was clinging to his arm. She looked so shaken that Harry thought that she was probably unable to speak. It pained him to see her like this, more than he could bear. He wished that Dumbledore had not brought his parents into this memory, but the Headmaster did not slow his pace, nor did he say anything as he opened the front door and ushered them all in.

The house reminded Harry of Number Four, Privet Drive, with the exception that it was decorated with a lot more taste and that it was a little bigger.

There were voices in the kitchen, just ahead of where they stood, and Harry recognised that it was his mother speaking.

"There, there, Petunia, dear," she was saying. "I'm sure it's not that serious."

Harry was ceased with sudden surprise. He had never imagined that his aunt would come to his parents' house. Yet, true enough, there she was, sitting at the Potter's kitchen table. She didn't look any different than Harry remembered. She wore a peach-coloured dress and her hair neatly tucked behind her ears. Presently, she was crying her eyes out and blowing her nose loudly every few seconds.

"Funny," said James unexpectedly, which caused the four others to look at him. "I remember exactly what I was wearing that evening."

The fourteen-year younger James had walked into the kitchen. He looked quite casual in a black shirt and worn out jeans. His hair was untidy, like Harry's, and he wore round-shaped glasses as well.

"Is Harry asleep?" asked the younger Lily, momentarily turning away from her crying sister.

"Yes," said the young James, folding his arms over his chest. "Say, are you ever going to stop this bailing?" he added in the direction of Lily's sister.

"Give her a break, James," said Harry's mother, pouring a cup of tea to Petunia. "It's hard enough as it is."

"So, what was it?" James asked, sitting opposite Harry's aunt and taking two cookies from the plate in front of him.

"He still doesn't want children?" Lily asked over to her sister, stroking her shoulder reassuringly.

Petunia nodded silently as more tears poured down her cheeks.

"Dursley. What a brute," the young Lily reacted, her hand still on her sister.

"Maybe I should have a talk with him," said James, pulling out his wand and laying it on the table, a malicious smile on his face.

Petunia raised her head and stared at him, a sudden look of dismay on her face.

"No!" she said, horror-struck. "It's not that bad. He… He's a good man. We'll sort it out."

"Well, you can stay as long as you'd like," said Lily with a warm smile.

Harry distinctively saw his younger father roll up his eyes.

"Fine, but I don't want to hear any comments about how abnormal we are," he said decisively and sounding a little aggravated.

Right at that moment, a loud screech was heard across the room. Harry turned around to see a dark owl sweep through the window and land on the kitchen table. Aunt Petunia gave out a little squeal, but refrained herself when James threw her a reproachful look.

James had already unfolded the small bit of parchment and was reading it. His face was now very serious.

"It's Frank," he said nervously to Lily. "He's bringing Neville here."

"Peter must have told him where we are," said Lily, raising from her seat and stepping close to her husband so that she could read the message herself.

"Some Secret Keeper," said James gently, staring up at her. "I would have preferred Sirius."

"Peter wouldn't betray us," said Lily irrefutably. "It must be serious. It sounds like Neville's in danger."

"Or Frank and Alice are just overreacting again," James retorted.

As he said this, the doorbell rang. Seconds later, Frank and Alice Longbottom were walking into the kitchen. Both of them were dressed in long, sweeping black robes. Mrs Longbottom was carrying the crying baby Neville in her arms.

"Who…?" asked Frank the moment he saw Petunia sitting at the table.

"My sister," said Lily at once. "She's a Muggle. She's no trouble."

"He was coming to our house," said Frank Longbottom quickly, turning to James. "_Him_," he added with emphasis. Mrs Longbottom let out a small cry. "We were lucky that Peter came to warn us."

"Where's Peter now?" asked Lily, sounding concerned.

"He was making sure we were not being followed," replied Neville's mother, still trying to calm the crying baby.

"James," Lily said pleadingly. "Peter is not that strong a wizard. We can't leave him alone out there."

"Right," said James quickly. Turning to Frank meaningfully, wand in hand, he added: "Let's go."

And the both of them walked out, leaving the three women and the baby in the kitchen. Neville's cries seemed to be steadily increasing.

"I have a bad feeling about this," said the young Lily quietly and to herself.

Harry turned to look at his present-day mother. Tears were slowly rolling down her cheeks, and she kept staring at her sister.

"I can't get him to stop crying," said Alice desperately.

Harry's attention was dragged back to the scene. Both Lily and Petunia were staring at Mrs Longbottom. She seemed on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Strangely, though, it was Petunia who spoke first.

"He can feel that you're worried," she said comprehensively. "I'll hold him, if you don't mind."

Petunia swept over to where Alice Longbottom stood and cradled the baby Neville in her long arms. The reaction was almost instantaneous. The crying stopped. The young Lily smiled at her sister. It was the first time ever that Harry distinctively saw a resemblance between the two sisters. Perhaps it was the maternal embrace, perhaps it was the smile, but the likeness was undeniable.

The silence only lasted a short moment. Then shouting was heard outside.

"It's just the neighbours," said Lily, yet Harry was sure that she did not believe it herself.

She rose from her seat and walked over to the living room window.

"I smell smoke," said Alice Longbottom, following Lily into the other room.

Without realising it, Harry had also crept over to the window. He was now witnessing the chaos on the street and sharing the shock of the young Lily and Alice. Several houses were on fire. People were running up and down the alley, screaming. Red and green sparks could be seen in the distance.

"Death Eaters," whispered Alice. "_Here_. They're attacking all those Muggles."

Harry saw his mother glance back at the kitchen where her sister was rocking Neville to sleep in her arms.

"It can't be a coincidence," she whispered.

"We've got to do something," said Alice, still staring at the window.

Harry could see in his mother's eyes the decision that she had just made. Resolutely, she walked back into the kitchen.

"Petunia, get upstairs. Stay in Harry's room. Keep Neville with you. Do not open the door to anyone. Stay out of sight."

Feeling the urgency in her sister's tone, Petunia Dursley obeyed without protest. She went straight to the stairs and was soon out of sight. Alice and Lily stood at the bottom of the stairs for a moment, then took out their wands and left the house.

Mist suddenly rose at Harry's feet. He was being pulled to another location.

"It's your mom's memory," said his father quietly. "We're only following her."

Sure enough, a moment later, they were standing besides the two young women again. A black robed and hooded Death Eater was lying flat on his back in the middle of the streets.

"Malfoy," said Lily Potter as she pulled off the Death Eater's mask and long, white hair fell out of it.

Harry's mom put her hand over her mouth and coughed. There was thick black smoke on the streets now. It was hard to see far ahead. Harry couldn't tell if there were other Death Eaters around, but he felt sure that Lucius Malfoy wouldn't have acted alone.

"_Aqua Erupto_!" yelled Alice.

A large strand of water was now sprouting out of her wand. She was trying to put out the fire on a house. The flames were very high, and as Harry followed the red jets into the sky with his glance, he saw that the sky was not red, but green. The Dark Mark was floating over their heads. Dumbledore, Sirius and his parents seemed to have noticed it too.

In the meantime, the young Lily Potter had joined Mrs Longbottom in her attempt to put out the fire, leaving the unconscious body of Lucius Malfoy sprawled like an eagle in the middle of the street. She and Alice tried hard together for several minutes, but it clearly wasn't working.

"Where is everybody?" enquired Alice, glancing around.

No sooner had she finished her question that a red blast caught her from behind. She immediately fell on her back, motionless.

"Alice!" yelled Lily.

Harry could see an undersized man hiding behind a car. He was small with mousy hair. His wand-hand was trembling.

"Peter?" said Lily, incredulous. "What did you just do?"

"It's too late now," cried Wormtail, his voice tremulous. "He is coming. No one can stop him. The Dark Lord has decided…"

"What has he decided?" said Lily in distress. Sudden realisation was creeping on her face.

Silence. The small man was well hidden in the smoke and shadows of the flames. He was hardly visible.

"Peter, what has he decided?" she yelled, pointing her wand in Pettigrew's direction but with no clear target.

"Maybe he won't kill you if you don't stand in his way," Wormtail let out in a murmur. "Maybe…"

Lily wheeled around and broke into a run towards the Potter's house. It was at least a few streets away. Harry and the others were following her like ghostly forms, floating behind her.

She had almost reached the house. Harry could see it now. Then suddenly, without warning, it exploded. Green light filled the space around them. Harry closed his eyes. He knew this light. It was the light of the Killing Curse. Voldemort was inside the house right now, and his curse had failed and backfired.

The house was coming down around them in shards of wood. The young Lily Potter had been knocked unto the ground by the force of the explosion and she was protecting her head from the falling debris with both her arms.

"The Dark Mark is gone," said Sirius who was standing besides Harry. "So that's how it happened."

"It's not over," said Harry's mother, stepping closer to them. She was now watching herself struggle unto her feet and run towards what was left of the house.

No one spoke as the young Lily Potter stood in front of the remains of her house, yelling her sister's name. When there was no respond, she started to climb into the wreckage, pushing aside a door, lifting a bookcase, searching for a sign or a body.

It was Harry's mother who led them towards the place where the body of Petunia Dursley lay. She stood over her sister in silence. There were no longer tears in her eyes. Harry recognised that they were in his childhood's bedroom. The walls were blue around them. He had always known that the walls had been blue, without having had much proof of it. Now the walls were spread out in pieces.

The younger Lily Potter let out a scream as she saw the body of her sister. She pulled her onto her knees, revealing Petunia's now lifeless eyes. But there was something under her sister's body.

"Harry!" she said, holding up the form of the baby from the wreckage.

The small child was pale and motionless. Tiny drops of blood were rolling down his forehead unto his eyes.

"Please don't be dead," she said, cradling him, feeling his belly for a pulse.

Then suddenly, there was a tiny shift. The baby had moved. He was alive. Lily Potter was now rocking him back and forth, saying, "it's OK, Harry, it's OK," over and over again. Harry turned around to look at his parents and saw that they were hugging tenderly, crying unto each other's shoulders. Harry blushed and turned away. Somehow, it felt like a private moment for his parents. Instead, he started to look around for a sign of baby Neville. He only took a few steps before Neville's cries started to be heard. The young Lily Potter turned around, taken aback. The cries were coming from the crib. It was lying just besides where Petunia had been, and it was upside down. With baby Harry firmly in her grip, the young Lily Potter stepped towards the crib and flipped it over with a flick of her wand. There was Neville, unharmed, but crying his eyes out.

"Well, that certainly is a happy ending," said Sirius, wiping a tear with his sleeve.

"Wait," said Harry's mom, staring at the scene.

There was a loud CRACK and the sound of footsteps on broken wood. James Potter, the younger one, was running through the debris, having just Apparated. There were cuts on his face and he was holding his left arm against his torso. He hugged his wife as soon as he saw her, then he picked up Neville from the ground with his good arm.

"Both are saved," he said breathlessly. "It's a miracle."

Lily said nothing. She was trying to get out of the wreckage. James helped her, explaining as they were moving: "There's a rumour. I've heard that You-Know-Who has fled. Frank is rounding up the Death Eaters that we caught and so far everything seems to confirm that it's true. No one knows that there has been an attack here. I have to get in touch with…"

"James, wait," murmured Lily, gripping his shoulder.

She sat down on the sidewalk. James imitated her.

"You're right," he said slowly. "Let's breathe a little first."

"He's marked Harry," Lily said quietly, almost inaudibly.

"What?"

She pulled off the blanket from baby Harry's face and lifted his head into the pale street light. There it was, the lightening scar, fresh and bleeding slightly on Harry's head.

"You-Know-Who marked our son," she said, looking into her husband's eyes, pain in her voice. "It's the mark of a curse on our son, James!"

She looked panic-stricken. Harry's father seemed at a lost for words.

"They will haunt him," she continued. "You-Know-Who will want to finish what he's started."

"That's what I've been saying, Lily, he might… he might be gone," James tried to explicate.

"He'll never be gone," cried Harry's mother. "You know enough about the Dark Arts to realise this. They will try to bring him back, and they will need Harry to do it. Don't you see it? Harry's the reason he vanished, and he'll be the key to bring him back."

James seemed to absorb the idea. He looked terrified as well. Both of them just sat there, saying nothing, for a few minutes. Harry looked back at his present-day mother. She looked nervous and apprehensive.

Suddenly, James stood up and placed Neville on the sidewalk. Then, he took the baby Harry from his wife's arms and placed him besides Neville.

"What are you doing?" asked Lily, her voice full of distress.

James reached for her hand and pulled her to her feet.

"I won't hurt them," he said.

He took out his wand and waved it in an elaborate fashion over both babies' heads. The red lightening scar seemed to grow brighter, even glow. Then, suddenly, it lifted away from baby Harry's forehead and moved across to where Neville lay, finally floating down unto Neville's forehead and returning to its original blood-red color but no longer bright.

"What about Neville?" Lily asked, looking from one baby to the other in shock.

"I care for Neville too," said James, "but we have a possibility of delaying You-Know-Who's return."

"With a decoy," Lily concluded.

"Exactly," said James.

"And Harry?"

"I only moved the scar unto Neville's forehead. I don't think anyone can remove the curse that's on Harry," said James. There was sadness in his tone.

Lily picked up her baby son from the ground, kissing his forehead.

"It will be our secret, then," she said.

Mist had risen around Harry's waist. The lights were swirling fast around him. He was being pulled upwards.

Moments later, his feet landed hard on the stone floor of Dumbledore's office.


	18. Chapter 18

PART FOUR

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: THE MIRROR OF ERISED

Everyone was standing motionless and in silence around the Pensive, absorbing what they had just witnessed, when Fawkes the Phoenix suddenly burst into flames.

"About time," said Dumbledore, sweeping over the Fawkes' cradle of ashes from which the phoenix would soon reawaken.

"Well," said Sirius, clasping his hands together. "I certainly had my shares of revelations for today," he concluded happily.

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you, Headmaster," murmured Lily as she was drying her tears with the back of her hand.

"My only thought was to protect Harry," James added in.

"Nev became everyone's hero," cut in Sirius, "but all this time, it should have been Harry." There was unmistakable pride in his voice.

Harry was now staring absent-mindedly at the baby phoenix. It looked so tiny and helpless, just as he and Neville had been vulnerable fourteen years ago. He wasn't sure that 'hero' was the appropriate word to choose.

"How about it, Harry? You're The Boy Who Lived," Sirius said, clapping him hard on the shoulder blades so that Harry lost his balance and almost flung his hands into Fawkes' ashes.

He took a few steps aside from Sirius and from Fawkes.

"It's got me nothing but trouble ever since," he said angrily at Sirius. "Remember my trying to turn back time in order to change everything?"

"He's right," James claimed. "The trip in the Pensive didn't solve that particular matter, Dumbledore."

"No, it didn't," said the Headmaster, sweeping over to Harry. "However, the first step to a recovery is sometimes to be confronted with the truth."

He was staring right into Harry's eyes now. "Dumbledore is the only person in the room who hasn't changed in this reality," thought Harry.

"If you don't mind, Harry," said Dumbledore calmly, "I'm going to return something that has been rightfully yours all long."

He placed the tip of his wand unto Harry's forehead. Harry felt a tickling sensation and he knew at once that the scar had appeared at the exact same place where it used to be. He had been so happy to see it gone; now he wasn't sure how he felt about it being back. Then again, perhaps it had probably never truly vanished.

It took him a while to realise that his mother was standing so close to him. She lifted his fringe delicately and pressed a kiss on his forehead, just as she had done so many times before.

"We're so sorry for not telling you the truth," she let out as she bent down to give him a hug. But although the words sounded sincere, Harry couldn't help but push her back a little roughly.

"It's not me," he said, his temper rising. "It's not what really happened."

"Harry, sweetheart, listen…" his mother said, trying to calm him down.

"No!" he retorted. "It's still not right. And you don't need to apologise to me."

The others were all staring at him.

"You _died_ saving me," he said, pointing at his mother. Then he turned to his father. "You died because you tried to stop Voldemort from coming into the house. Wormtail did betray you, but it wasn't like this. You both died that night, and I had the scar, and Dumbledore sent me to live with the Dursleys," he let out in one breath. He was fuming now.

"Then, my sister, Petunia…"

"She raised me," Harry cut in quickly. "Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon have a son, too. My cousin Dudley bullied me for ten years before I came to Hogwarts and learned that I was a wizard. He still picks on me every summer when I do back to Privet Drive to live with them. Well, he leaves me alone now because he's afraid I might Petrify him or something, but still…"

"The truth," Dumbledore suddenly began to say, raising his voice on top of Harry's, "is more complicated than a series of facts."

"The spell I used, Professor," Harry said almost frantically, "can it be broken? Can I put things back the way they were?"

He wasn't sure why he was asking this. He wanted to be with his parents more than anything, but it didn't seem fair to them to keep pretending that he was the son that they had raised. He had tried so hard to be what they expected him to be, but in the end, he realised, it wasn't who he really was. He was a stranger to them. He couldn't share their memories of the past. What right did he have to impose himself upon their future?

"Do you really want to put things back the way they should be?" Dumbledore asked, though he probably already knew the answer.

Harry wondered a moment, then looked at his parents and said, resolutely: "Yes, I do."

His heart sank as he said this. Now it was final; he would really loose them.

"Wait," said James, alarmingly. "What do you mean by 'putting things back'? What about Harry? What about us?"

His wife was clinging to his arm again and James was stroking her hair.

"Time," said Dumbledore in the same elusive tone "is like a spider's web. It has many paths, twists and turns. We are merely going to set Harry back on the path where he belongs."

His mother opened her mouth to protest, but Dumbledore quickly put in: "You will notice that Harry no longer is under the influence of the Veritaserum. He hasn't been since we returned from the Pensive. Yet his answer could not have been plainer. I do believe that we can now proceed with the next step."

Without further ado, he flicked his wand in an elaborate fashion and several bookcases in his office began to move. They were rotating, making more space, opening up as though they had been hiding something secret. In fact, Harry realised, there was something hidden behind the bookcases of Dumbledore's office. It was a long and flat surface, rectangular, covered with a heavy dark curtain. Dumbledore stepped closer to it, removing the cloth with a swift gesture of his wand as he walked. Harry recognised the object at once.

"The Mirror of Erised," he said in wonder.

"Ah," said Dumbledore matter-of-factly, "you have seen this mirror before. Perhaps you can also tell me what it does, Harry?" he enquired as a teacher would ask a pupil.

"It shows us what we want," answered Harry, remembering his experience with the same mirror in his first year. Then, he explained to the others: "Dumbledore hid the Philosopher's Stone in it during my first year. Voldemort was trying to steel it."

"It scares me when you say You-Know-Who's name like that," Harry's father suddenly said.

"It shouldn't," Dumbledore declared. "Now, Harry, if you would please step closer to the mirror."

Harry did as he was told. He saw the reflection of his mother and father, standing as they were behind him and holding on to each other. He saw Sirius, in his handsome black coat, stepping closer to have a better look. Then the image changed. Shadows seemed to swirl across it. The mirror was not showing the reflection of Dumbledore's office anymore. He was peering into a room he had never seen before. The walls were grey and dirty. The furniture looked as though it had not been used for years. There were picture frames on the wall, but the occupants seemed to have deserted their portraits. The flame of a candle was peacefully shedding light on a head that was resting on a pile of books. A bushy-brown bunch of hair was falling in waves on the table.

"Hermione?" murmured Harry, unsure if he had guessed right.

The young girl immediately straightened up, robbing her eyes.

"I wasn't asleep!" she burst out. Then she looked around at the mirror. "Harry! It's you!"

She got up and walked towards the mirror, looking very much awakened now. The pink shirt that she was wearing was the only thing of color in the room. She came close enough to the mirror so that she could touch it with the tips of her fingers.

"Is it really you, Harry?" she enquired.

"Yeah," Harry said, smiling back at her.

"Harry, what did you do? Dumbledore said you tried to turn back time. Harry, you ought to know better. I told you. Awful things happen to wizards who meddle with time. Why don't you listen to me?"

Harry couldn't help but grin even more. "This," he thought, "is the Hermione that I know."

"It's good to see you too Hermione," he replied gladly, totally ignoring her scolding.

It was strange to be talking to her through a mirror, but he was still glad to see her. It probably meant that there was a way that he could get back to his real life. It was not lost, somehow.

Presently, she was looking over his shoulder.

"Is that," she began to ask, "your parents?"

Harry looked back, and then he stepped aside so that she could see more clearly.

"Yeah," he said quietly.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," said James Potter. "I don't think I've ever seen you study that hard," he added jokingly.

"I'm preparing for next year. The fifth year is really important. It's OWLs year," she responded, blushing.

"Indeed," agreed Harry's dad, a little surprised. Then he turned to his son. "Are you sure this is really Hermione Granger?"

"She's the cleverest witch in the school," replied Harry, smiling at Hermione again.

She blushed even more. Harry wondered if he should tell her that she was dating Ron in the world where he was, but he decided against it.

"What were you doing, Hermione, besides studying?" he asked instead, looking around behind her back.

"It's my shift," she answered right away. "Dumbledore has made us watch the mirror in turn. He seemed convinced that you would turn up eventually. I'd better go and get him. I'll be right back."

She wheeled around, walking fast towards the door, but suddenly she stopped short.

"What?" asked Harry.

"Dumbledore told us not to leave the mirror unwatched, especially if you turned up. It might break the link or something."

"A very clever assertion, Miss Granger," Dumbledore suddenly said, standing behind Harry's back. "I was about to say the same thing."

"Can somebody come in here?" she burst out into the hallway, one foot on the threshold of the opened door.

"Don't scream, will you? You'll wake up my mother."

Harry recognised the voice of his godfather at once. The man who walked into the room was even shabbier than when he had last seen him. It looked as though Sirius had not been sleeping very well. There were dark circles under his eyes. His hair was untidy and his clothes were dirty.

"I'll be damned," whispered the other Sirius who was standing close to Harry. "If this is me, then this house… It's my mother's house." It didn't sound like he could believe it. "I never thought that I would seeing myself in it."

In the meantime, Hermione had disappeared into the corridor and the other, shabbier Sirius was stepping close to the mirror, curiosity on his face.

"Harry!" he exclaimed. "Can you hear me? Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," said Harry in response.

But he doubted that Sirius had heard his reply. His eyes had fallen on the couple who was standing behind Harry. His face grew paler almost instantly and Harry knew that he understood who he was looking at. There was a tense moment of silence. Harry thought that he had never seen his godfather look so miserable.

"Hello, Sirius," said James, breaking the stillness. "Long time, no see, I guess."

Harry's mother was grinning too besides her husband, but there was something sorrowful about James' greeting.

"It's… It's good to see you two," said Sirius. His voice was only a whisper.

He turned away a moment, stepping into the shadows. It looked as though he was trembling. Harry couldn't bear to watch.

"Well, this place hasn't changed," said the other Sirius who was on Harry's side of the mirror. "It's still as ghastly as I remember it. Did you let yourself go down with the place, or is it an occupational hazard?" he asked ironically to his counterpart.

"No," said the shabby Sirius, facing himself in the mirror. "I've developed a fashionable taste during twelve years spent in Azkaban." He looked livid.

Luckily, he was interrupted by the arrival of another person into the room. It was someone that Harry was most happy to see.

"Ron!" he cried out, pressing his hands on the mirror.

"Hi there, mate!" Ron relied gleefully.

His red hair and green jumper was even more contrasting with the darkness of the room than Hermione's pink shirt. He was holding a piece of paper in his hands and a sandwich in the other.

"This is weird," he said, peering into the mirror at Harry and at the other people with him. "Is that what you were seeing during our first year when you found that mirror?"

"More or less," Harry admitted. Sirius and Dumbledore had not been in the picture; only his parents.

"They've just sent an owl to Dumbledore," Ron continued. "He'll be here any moment."

Hermione walked back into the room as Ron was speaking.

"What do you reckon, Hermione?" Ron asked her, stepping aside so that she could see Harry. Ron seemed keen to hear her explanation.

"Well, I was reading up a bit on time travel," she started to say, nodding towards the table full of books on which she had been snoozing.

Ron winked at Harry, whispering "I knew it" under his breath.

"In 'There and Back Again; Timeline and other Myths about Time Travel', it states that time isn't linear, that there is more than one timeline…"

"Like a spider web," James said, visibly interested.

But Hermione was not listening. She was looking straight at Dumbledore. She seemed to be asking him whether or not she should continue.

"Go ahead, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said calmly.

"Well, Professor, I'm not sure we're really dealing with time travel in this case," she said quickly. "I've read all about it when Professor McGonnagal lent me the Time Turner in my third year, and…"

She looked at her feet as though she couldn't bear the idea of what she was about to say.

"If Harry had really gone back in time," she began quietly, "then he wouldn't be in Privet Drive at his Aunt and Uncle's anymore."

"Err, Hermione? I'm here, not in Privet Drive," Harry pointed out ironically.

"No," said Ron at once, stuffing the last piece of sandwich into his mouth and unfolding the bit of parchment that he was holding. "You're in Privet Drive now, mate. You just sent me this letter."

Hermione walked over to the table and brought back the candle so that Ron could read.

"_Dear Ron_," he said, "_Your letters aren't telling me much. I suppose that you have been asked to be careful about what you put in writing. But I'm really dying for some news out here. Can you please find out when I'll be able to leave Privet Drive and maybe join you at your place? Say hi to everyone. Bye. Harry._"

Harry was speechless. He couldn't remember having written this letter. His last letter to Ron had been something like "Dear Ron, I got home alright. I've never seen Dudley so scared. Hope to see you soon."

"I don't remember sending that letter, Ron," said Harry, thinking out loud. "Has someone checked to make sure it's really me in Privet Drive? Maybe… Maybe I've swapped place with the other me, the one that should be here!"

It didn't sound like a bad assumption at all. Perhaps he had changed place with his counterpart. The other Harry, the one who didn't like Quidditch, could be sitting in his room in Privet Drive right now. The more he thought of it, the more it made sense.

"I don't know if that's possible, Harry," said Hermione. She was almost apologetic.

"I think I might be able to help you with that matter," a deep voice suddenly said, and Harry distinctively saw the outline of Albus Dumbledore on the threshold of the dark room.

He swept over to the mirror. Ron, Hermione and Sirius stepped aside to allow him a closer look.

"Two Dumbledores," said Sirius cheerfully at Harry's side. "There's a nightmare for You-Know-Who's followers."

"What your friends Ron and Hermione have been telling you is true, Harry," said the newly arrived Dumbledore, ignoring Sirius' comment.

"Then, it's really me in Privet Drive right at this moment?" Harry enquired. He wanted to hear this from Dumbledore's voice.

"Yes, it is," replied the Headmaster. "I have just checked myself."

"But the book," Harry retorted, getting a little nervous. "The spell… It said 'Turn back time. Live one year exactly as you wish it.'"

Dumbledore unfolded his long, floating cloak, and revealed the book. Harry didn't recognise it right away. The cover was entirely black without any words on it, but Harry seemed to remember that there used to be writings, a title at least. As Dumbledore started to flip its pages, they were empty as well. There was nothing written in the book. But it couldn't be. He had read this book. There were instructions in the first pages at least. He was sure of it.

"What does this remind you off, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, looking at Harry intently.

Harry wondered for a moment. The only book he had ever seen that had no writings in it was…

"Tom Riddle's diary," he said with sudden realisation.

"Indeed," Dumbledore answered, closing the book softly and turning it over.

He showed Harry the back of the book. There was a tiny inscription. Harry read it out loud.

"_Harry James Potter. Stop Voldemort's return. See parents again. June 30_."

He was beginning to understand, but he didn't want to believe it. There was the wish he had made, and the date he had read the spell. Could it be true? Could he be trapped in a book?

"A Dream Book," said the Sirius on Harry's side in wonder. "They're illegal."

The others were staring at him, waiting for an explanation.

"It captures in its pages an image of the conscious self, like a memory, a copy of you," he said thoughtfully. "Then a person can visit his or her perfect world at will by entering the pages of the book. They became illegal when there were cases of people who refused to come out. I thought that they destroyed them all."

"Well I bet you can find a few copies in Knockturn Alley," said Ron darkly.

"I thought that it had been a harmless trick, at first sight, because Harry, the one who is in Privet Drive now, never did find out what it could do," Dumbledore said, looking at the book with a mixed expression of admiration and aversion.

Hermione was clasping her hands over her mouth. Ron was clutching the letter in his hand so hard that he had thorn through the paper.

"I thought that you were out of harm's reach at your Aunt and Uncle's, but someone obviously still found a way to get through to you," Dumbledore continued. "I took the book from your bedroom almost a week ago and erased all traces of it from your memory, but the spell had already sealed your new existence, it seems. Like you did with Tom Riddle's diary, I wrote a question inside the book, and my assumption was confirmed."

"Then…" Harry began to say, but what he was about to utter sounded too dreadful to be spoken out loud.

"None of this is real," said the other Dumbledore from behind him, pressing a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder.

"You knew it?" James asked the Headmaster in astonishment.

"I have guessed it," said the Dumbledore on Harry's side of the mirror. "Yet I did not have much proof until now."

"You're telling me that our lives are just an illusion, some kind of fantasy world inside a book?" Sirius said heatedly.

"How long have you known?" Lily asked. For some reason, she seemed more poised than the others.

"Since the First Task," Dumbledore admitted. "Dragons are mystical creatures, you see. They understand and feel more than we, wizards, tend to believe."

"Leo," said Harry at once. "I mean, the Chinese Fireball."

"Indeed," said Dumbledore. "I watched Neville Longbottom – actually, I should say I watched you in disguise, Harry – struggle with the dragon during the First Task while all the time feeling as though this creature didn't belong in the Tournament. It turns out that I was right. It wasn't a Chinese Fireball at all."

"It was Harry?" James asked in surprise. "_Flying_?"

"Not a Chinese Fireball," repeated Harry, feeling a little confused.

"No, Harry," continued Dumbledore. "Your friend Leo, as you call him, belongs to an old race of dragons long extinguished. I do remember your writing a paper about them in your third year in Hagrid's class."

"I remember," Hermione suddenly burst out. "They were slaughtered not long after Hogwarts was created. Many believed that Salazar Slytherin was behind it, but there was never any proof. Slytherin wanted to rally the snakes to him, but the dragons got in his way."

"I remember too," Harry cut in. "Actually, I remember mostly that I felt sorry for them," he added as an afterthought. "That explains why Leo protected me and Neville from the snake, and why I could hear Leo speak. His race can understand Parseltongue. Slytherin killed them because they wouldn't serve him. They're not like snakes, dragons."

"But… You couldn't have met one, Harry. They're extinguished!" Hermione protested, shaking her head and looking at the Dumbledore on her side for support.

"You forget, Miss Granger, that Harry created this world. Unknowingly, of course, but nevertheless his thoughts at the moment when he spoke the incantation shaped his reality. Can you not think of anything else that you might have inadvertently invented, Harry?"

Harry wondered for a moment. This world was far from perfect, he had thought so more than once. But he had never thought that he had _invented_ any part of it.

"I will help you," said Dumbledore. "I do not believe that any of the Canadian Quidditch teams have a Seeker named Elisa Lord, however sweet she might be."

Harry thought hard about the implications. Ron was going to the Yule Ball with Hermione. Could he have invented a date for Viktor Krum to compensate? If this was true, then there were a lot of people in his life now who could be nothing more than a fragment of his imagination: the images of Neville's sister Eleanor and Sirius' girlfriend Audrey burst into his mind.

"But I don't understand," Harry enquired. "What about all the bad stuff? I mean, what about my dad and Lupin not speaking to each other? What about Wormtail and Crouch and Voldemort? I wouldn't _invent_ horrible things happening."

"It is my observation that our minds tend to balance out the good with the bad," said Dumbledore, taking the dying candle from Hermione's hand and producing a brand new one with his wand. The room started to shine with a new, brighter light.

"What happens now?" asked Lily Potter, taking a step closer to her son.

All of the heads turned to the Dumbledore in the dark room. There was a moment of tense apprehension.

"I'm afraid," he finally began to say, "that there isn't much to do but let the year end."

Silence.

"That's it?" said Sirius, incredulous. "After one year, we're just going to fade away and disappear? You won't get rid of us that easily, I'm telling you." He was growing furious.

"My intentions are not to get rid of any of you," said Dumbledore with a hint of sadness in his voice. He was absent-mindedly stroking the cover of the book.

"Isn't there anything we can do, Professor?" Hermione asked shakily. Harry noticed that her eyes were red and watery. "Tom Riddle found a way. He was coming back."

But Harry already knew the answer to this question. It was something that Dumbledore had said to him what seemed like a long time ago.

"No spell can reawaken the dead," he said quietly, staring into his Headmaster's eyes.

"Exactly, Harry," said Dumbledore, offering no more explanation to anyone else.

Harry pressed his right hand against the glass of the Mirror of Erised. He didn't want to let go. He didn't want the images of Ron, Hermione and Sirius to vanish and be lost forever. Was he really going to loose them all?

"What will happen now?" Ron asked seeming a little lost. "We don't have to say goodbye or anything like that, do we?"

"It's not really goodbye," said Harry, trying to sound cheerful, but he knew that he was being terrible at it. "After all, I'm not really going anywhere."

"Indeed," a voice suddenly said that didn't belong to anyone in Dumbledore' office nor in the other room. "Indeed, you are not going anywhere."

"Harry, move! It's Crouch!" Hermione yelled.

Harry only had time to duck to avoid the jet of green light that was directed at him from behind. The spell missed him by a few inches and crashed over his head. There was a loud cracking noise on top of him, and the sound of something heavy falling to the ground at the other end of the office.

Hermione was still screaming his name when the mirror burst into tiny pieces.


	19. Chapter 19

PART FOUR

CHAPTER NINETEEN: THE SERVENT, THE DRAGON AND THE SNAKE

"Harry! HARRY!" his mother was screaming on top of the other noises. He could hear spells being shouted from a corner of the room to the next.

He couldn't get up. The mirror had fallen on top of him. He could feel glass cutting through his skin on his arms, legs; it was everywhere. He was crushed. He couldn't move. He couldn't even reach his wand.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!" cried Sirius' voice.

The heavy mirror frame lifted. Harry tried to use his hands to pull himself up, but there was glass everywhere.

Around him, it looked as though Dumbledore's office had just been visited by a tornado. All the books, odd instruments, chairs, cabinets, everything was spread out on the floor or flying awkwardly in circles.

His mother ran towards him as Sirius sent the heavy mirror frame falling with another loud crash a few feet away from him.

"Are you alright?" said Lily Potter, pulling pieces of glass off his robes. "Oh dear, you're bleeding!"

"Where is Crouch?" he said, ignoring his mother's fretting.

"Don't worry," said his dad, stepping over a broken cabinet. "We got him."

On the other side of the office, Dumbledore was magically lifting the inert body of Barty Crouch Junior from the bookcase on which it had fallen.

"Snape was supposed to be watching him," said Sirius, joining Dumbledore. "I'm going to _kill_ him."

"Before you do," Dumbledore said evenly, "I will go down to the donjons to make sure Severus has not sustained any injury."

"I'm with you," said Sirius who was now holding Crouch's body at the tip of his wand.

A few seconds later, Dumbledore, Sirius and the floating and motionless Crouch were out of sight.

"Sit here, Harry," said James calmly. "Let me look at those cuts."

Harry was walking over to the chair that his father had turned over for him when another strange sound caught his ears.

"The old man isss gone," hissed the voice. "Yesss, get him now."

Harry wheeled around quickly, almost tripping on shards of glass as he did so. Then he saw it. Sliding out of the window on the right of Dumbledore's desk was the slithering form of a long, dark green snake.

"He cannot essscape," hissed the snake.

Suddenly, as Harry's eyes fell on the snake, his scar burst with pain. When he looked up again, his mother and father had moved in front of him, wands at the ready, shielding him from the snake.

"_Serpente Evanesca_!" his father bellowed.

But the snake was too fast. The spell had no effect whatsoever. The beast had already moved behind the desk. Its long body was now coming in and out of sight as the creature was undulating slowly amongst the debris and under the broken furniture, coming closer and closer.

"It's Voldemort's snake," Harry said loudly, recognising the intruder from his memory of the night in the graveyard. "You can't kill it. Get out of here!"

He tried to push his mother and father out of the way, but at the same time, something grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him down. He fell on the floor on his elbows, avoiding his head clashing with a sharp instrument only by an inch. The snake pulled hard at his legs, bringing him back the same way it had come.

"_Stupefy_!" cried lily Potter, fury in her voice.

The spell seemed to bounce off the snake's skin.

"_Avada_…" James started to say.

"NO!" Harry's mom cut in, grasping at her husband's wand. "You could kill Harry."

"Massster isss not happy," the snake was saying to Harry's ears. "Massster will not be fffooled again."

The throbbing on Harry's forehead seemed to intensify.

"_Reducto_!" he said, pointing his wand at the snake's tail at his ankle, which was the only part of it that he could see. "_Stupefy_! _Petrificus Totalus_!" he tried again. None of the spells had any effect. The snake seemed impervious to curses.

Harry's dad suddenly came into sight holding a long silver chandelier. He started to beat the serpent's tail feverishly.

"Release him, you monster!" he said angrily.

The snake stopped short. Harry could hear it hissing in pain. Its tail contracted, tightening its grip on Harry's leg. Then suddenly, as fast as lightening, the snake's head wheeled around, twisting its body in a loop, and collided with James Potter's torso with such force that he went flying across the room. Harry heard a crush as his father landed somewhere around where the Mirror of Erised had stood only a few minutes ago.

"Let go of me!" yelled Harry, willing himself to speak Parseltongue.

"He speaksss, thisss one," replied the snake.

"Let me go!" yelled Harry louder in the snake language.

The snake was pulling him off the floor now. It was dangling him upside down towards the window through which it had come.

"Time to fall," hissed the snake.

Harry tried to grab the window sill while still holding on to his wand, but his hands were slippery with blood and he could not get a firm grip.

"Harry!" cried his mother in horror.

Harry's feet were now over the threshold, but his head was still inside. "Release me!" he screamed in Parseltongue with as much force as he could muster. "Help me!"

Then suddenly, as though answering to his call, something white and shiny shot through the window and across the room. Harry's feet were propelled forward as the snake gave a strong pull on his ankle and his entire body slid out of the window faster than Harry anticipated he would. He was soon hanging from the window sill with his fingers clutching the rim as best as he could.

"The traitor!" hissed the snake in furious rage.

Harry cranked his neck and saw the long and heaving shape of Leo the Dragon surging through the opened window. The snake was making horrible, hissing noises while the dragon was roaring. A fireball shot over Harry's head and flew out of the window. Harry's hands were cut badly. He could feel the blood running down his wrists. He did not know how much longer he could last.

"Hold on, Harry Potter," said Leo's voice in his head. The air around him had gone suddenly misty white.

"I've got you," his mother's voice suddenly said closer to him. She looked like she was coming out of a cloud. She grabbed his left wrist with her right hand. "Hang on," she said. "I can't get a grip…" There were crashing sounds behind her, and roaring and hissing.

Her hands were slippery too. Harry felt his grasp loosen. He was going to fall. He looked below. The tower to Dumbledore's office was perhaps the highest one of the castle. Evening had covered the ground. Everything was a blur. He couldn't see pass the mist. He would be falling into the darkness of the night.

"Harry, give me your wand," his mother said, desperation in her voice.

He knew that if he lifted his right hand to give her the wand, he would fall. Yet, he didn't have another choice anymore. Slowly, he raised his wand towards her.

"Got it," she said.

And then he fell. He didn't hear his mother scream; the wind was too loud. He hit the roof flat on belly. He was plunging fast.

"Leo, help!" he yelled as he was sliding down the towers inclined roof, swinging towards the empty sky.

The roof had the effect of propelling him far away from the tower into nothingness. He didn't have his wand. He was going to hit the ground any second now.

But he didn't. The white and undulating dragon had flown under him and, before he realised what had happened, he was safely riding the mystical beast, soaring into the night sky in a speedy ascension.

"Thanks," Harry let out in a sigh. His scar was no longer burning.

"We seem to be bond to each other, Harry Potter," said the dragon in Harry's head.

Harry smiled and wondered if the dragon knew how much that was true. Leo's race was supposed to be extinguished.

"Yes, I know," Leo said softly.

The dragon wheeled around towards Dumbledore's tower. Harry could see the outline of his parents in the window. He thought he saw tears on his mother's face.

"My dad's OK," he said, relieved. "Can you take me to them?" he asked the dragon.

But the dragon soared in higher and Harry had to grab the creature's neck tighter to avoid falling. He peered down at the tower, but he could no longer see his parents.

"I will make a deal with you, Harry Potter," said the dragon mysteriously.

"I'm listening," replied Harry, now curious.

"In awaking me, you have started a quest that goes beyond the boundaries of this world which you created," the dragon said in Harry's head. Every word was like an echo as though the dragon wanted to leave an imprint in Harry's mind.

"It won't last," said Harry, miserably. It was paining him to have to admit this to Leo, but once the year was over, he was certain that the dragon would vanish from existence as Harry's parents would.

"So certain are you," commented the dragon as though he had read Harry's thoughts. "You have much to learn about the intricacies of magic, of time, and of space."

The castle was almost no longer visible from where they were. It was but a shadowy outline in the night sky. Over his head, Harry could see millions of stars and the round, silvery moon.

"What quest are you talking about?" he murmured to Leo's ears.

"My quest will be to find my own kind," answered the dragon. "Your quest is still to be determined."

"We would leave everything behind?" he asked, the image of his parents bursting into his mind.

"Yes, if you are ready."

Harry thought of the possibilities. Dumbledore had just made it clear that he was not even real. He was nothing more than a dream. Could Leo change that?

"When?" he said. None of this made much sense.

"At the end of the year, I will come and fetch you," Leo answered.

"That still gives me plenty of time," Harry thought. His upcoming date with Ginny came to his mind, then the Third Task, then the broomstick that his father had given him.

"Alright," he said to the dragon. "I'm in."

As soon as he said this, Leo's rising and falling body changed course and resumed its flight towards Hogwarts.

Harry realised with a gasp that his bleeding hands had tinted the dragon's white skin and he spent the rest of the descent trying to wipe it clean with his sleeve. Leo appeared to take no notice of it. He landed gracefully on top of the astronomy tower where Harry had once landed with Buckbeak the Hippogriff in order to save Sirius from the Dementors.

"We will see each other soon, then," said the dragon.

And as he took off again, the mist on Harry's eyes lifted as well. He stared at the starlit sky for a while. He felt strangely peaceful and poised. Perhaps it was only because he was tired and sore and had lost a lot of blood, or else it was because he knew that he had made the right decision.

When he came down from the tower, his parents greeted him with hugs and kisses. They ushered him to the hospital wing where Neville was fast asleep, snoring. Ginny was there too, hunched up on the bed besides Neville's. Madam Pomfrey had pulled a white sheet over her curled up form but her red hair was visible in the moonlight.

After Madam Pomfrey had bandaged all of Harry's cuts, he fell asleep while his parents watched him.

No one made any mention of the Dream Book or of how their world was anything but real.


	20. Chapter 20

PART FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY: THE LONG KISS GOODBYE

A few weeks after the Second Task, Harry and Ginny were sitting comfortably in the Three Broomsticks, sharing a piece of chocolate cake, and holding hands across the table.

"This is good, isn't it?" said Ginny happily as she was savouring another mouthful of cake. "I'm an icing type of person. You?"

"Me too," said Harry. He had stared at her so much that he was almost in trance.

"We should get another plate of just icing," Ginny offered in a playful tone.

Harry was glad that Ginny had not asked him to go to Madam Puddifoot's. It was Easter and he was sure that the little coffee shop was decorated with real-life jumping bunnies dressed in pink trousers and flowery hats or something. He liked the Three Broomsticks much better, and apparently so did Ginny. It was a sane place, and he felt like a sane person; unlike Ron who was so over-enthusiastic to go out with Hermione that Fred and George had actually had to dissuade him to buy a set firecrackers that he wanted to bewitch to spell out 'I love you Hermione' in pink letters in the blue sky.

"But it's _romantic_," Ron was saying aloud as Fred and George were ushering him out of the shop.

Harry and Ginny had burst out laughing at the exasperated look on Hermione's face.

After two enormous pieces of chocolate cake, they visited every shop, hand in hand, kissing spontaneously every time they felt like it, which was often.

They spent a tremendous amount of time trying out Quidditch gear and looking at the advertising outside the Hog's Head.

"Ok, look!" said Ginny, pointing out a photograph. "Someone has lost a baby Niffler. We should tell Hagrid."

Harry didn't reply but he kissed her instead.

Harry's parents had told the Longbottoms about the fake scar they had put on Neville thirteen years ago. Frank and Alice had looked horrified at first, but after a long afternoon of reflection and discussion, which Harry had skipped, they had decided to keep the masquerade going on and Harry's dad had once again performed the spell that had erased Harry's scar from his forehead.

Harry had taken upon himself to relate the story of the scar to Neville and Ginny, but without any mention of the Dream Book.

"I knew it," said Ginny, wide-eyed, when he finished his last sentence. "I just knew it. There always was something about you, a connection to You-Know-Who, that couldn't really be explained. It all makes so much sense now."

The three of them were sitting close together on the rocks along the lakeshore.

"Are you OK, Nev?" asked Harry, staring at his friend.

Neville had been silent the whole time.

"Yeah, I'm OK," he said finally. "I'm relieved, I guess," he admitted. "Is that alright?"

"Don't worry about it," Harry said reassuringly.

"Do you think You-Know-Who knows?" Ginny asked him, squeezing his hand.

"Well, his snake won't tell him," Harry replied with a surge of pride.

His dad had cut the snake's head clean using Godric Gryffindor's sword which had strangely fallen out of the Sorting Hat. The event had resulted in his telling his mother and father about his second year at Hogwarts and how he had killed the Basilisk. After that, his parents had wanted to know about this first year, and third year, and so on until he had been too tired to speak and had fallen asleep on his father's bed in the teachers' wing of the castle.

"So You-Know-Who is not really back, is he?" asked Neville, looking slightly nervous and apprehensive.

"He's only half formed," Harry explained patiently for what he felt like the hundredth time. "He's not human yet."

All three of them fell silent. The Durmstrang ship was rocking gently on the Black Lake in front of them. Many small boats could be seen drifting peacefully towards it. Viktor Krum and Elisa Lord waved at them from the distance and Krum almost fell out of the boat. The next moment, the giant squid flipped Karkaroff's little craft over and Hagrid had to rescue the Durmstrang Headmaster and pull him out of the water. Harry, Neville and Ginny were rather happy to see the Durmstrang Headmaster humiliated. And it was also very funny to see Hagrid pull up the Headmaster by the collar. They had a very good time telling the story to all of the other Gryffindors.

They did not speak about Voldemort again.

Harry found that the Triwizard Tournament was an enjoyable event after all. Neville was well prepared and looked more confident in front of the huge maze than he had done in any of the previous tasks. Harry and Ginny chose a seat among the other Gryffindors. Hermione and Ron came to join them in the stands. Ron had written 'Nev' in red letters on his forehead.

Fleur Delacour was the first champion to use the red sparks to be pulled out of the maze. She looked so happy to get away from it that Harry was not sorry at all for her. Her little sister Gabrielle ran towards her the moment that she landed back on the stadium and Fleur hugged her tenderly. Moments later, she was brushing the dirt off her uniform with her wand and she hardly seemed to care about anything else besides the fact that it was all over.

Viktor Krum touched the Triwizard Cup first. He reappeared at the beginning of the maze holding it high over his head. The Durmstrang students burst into a large chorus and their cheerfulness was so contagious that most Hogwarts students started to sing as well although none of them knew the words. Fred and George were teasing Ron by singing "Viktor I love you, Viktor I do" like they had done at the World Cup.

While they were singing, Neville's red sparks were seen flying very close to the center of the maze. He arrived a moment later on a broomstick and accompanied by Professor McGonnagal. Neville looked absolutely delighted with his performance. He shouted at Harry the minute he saw him.

"I almost did it, Harry! I was looking at the cup, and then Krum showed up out of nowhere. I saw him touch it, but I couldn't outrun him. I was stuck in Devil's Snare. See?"

He pointed at his legs. Sure enough, there was a thick black root tied to his ankle.

"You should have seen me nail that Boggart, Harry!"

But Harry couldn't hear anymore. The Hogwarts song was rising unto the air. There was so much cheers and applause that it was not possible to hear any kind of normal speech. Anyway, it didn't matter because Ginny was kissing him passionately and he was too occupied with kissing her back to be concerned with anything else.

Harry's memory of the closing ceremony of the Triwizard Tournament was very dark and gloomy because, obviously, it had been a formal procedure in the memory of Cedric Diggory. He didn't really expect any sort of entertainment. Therefore, he was very pleased to see the Weird Sisters return again for the celebration and announcement of the Triwizard Champion: Viktor Krum. Dumbledore made a short and lively speech about the importance of friendship and bravery in the face of danger, and the ceremony ended with the Weird Sisters' version of 'We are the Champions' which, Harry was glad to notice, every student knew, even the ones that came from wizard families.

For the after-party, Hagrid had set up a fire near his hut and all the students were invited to gather there for an evening of dancing and singing. Harry only had eyes for Ginny that night and danced every possible dance with her. He also spent time with Ron and Hermione, Viktor and Elisa, and also Neville who was having quite a good time with a blond and funny-looking girl who Ginny introduced as Luna Lovegood. Once or twice, he saw his parents watch him from the distance, but he didn't mind.

Up until now, this was the best night in his life.

The days started to go by very fast after the Third Task. The exams were over. The school year was drawing to an end. Harry noticed that his parents were steadily growing remote and lost in thought. He tried to ignore it as much as he could, but it was dawning on him as well. He didn't want to brood. His plan had been to enjoy every remaining day of this life. It was hard not to think about what was coming ahead, but he was making it a point not to talk about his fears to his parents; they had enough to cope with as it was.

He had not spoken to his parents about the deal he had made with Leo the Dragon, mostly because it didn't include them, and also because Harry was not sure what it meant.

As the last day of school drew nearer, he tried to spend as much time as he could with Ginny and his parents, which didn't leave much time for anyone else. Thankfully, Neville had found a new friend in Luna Lovegood and therefore Harry didn't feel too guilty for not including him so much anymore. He even wondered if he had not invented Luna somewhere along the way. Every evening, he had diner with his parents when they enjoyed long and animated chats, sometimes accompanied by Sirius or even Dumbledore, sometimes just the three of them. Twice, his parents invited Ginny to join them for diner, and that was very agreeable as well.

The last day of school was a very warm day with blue sky and hardly any wind. Harry was leaning on a tree trunk and Ginny had laid down her head on his lap. She had asked him a couple of times what were his plans for this summer, but Harry had only made vague replies. He didn't have the heart to talk about things that could happen later than the present moment.

"I love you," he said quite suddenly. They hadn't been talking for a while, just staring at the scenery.

"I love you too," she said warmly, smiling up at him.

"You two lovebirds ready for some Quidditch?" a cheerful voice unexpectedly said from behind them.

Harry turned around to see his parents and a whole bunch of other people standing a few feet away. There was Viktor and Elisa, Ron and Hermione, Sirius and Audrey, and the entire Gryffindor team all dressed in Quidditch scarlet and gold uniforms. Even Harry's parents were wearing scarlet cloaks. Everyone present was holding a broom.

"Heard you're not a bad Quidditch player," said Harry's dad, beaming. "Which position?"

"Seeker," Harry responded, jumping up unto his feet and helping Ginny to get up as well.

"Excellent," said Ron happily. "Here, this is yours."

He took the broomstick that Hermione was holding and handed it to Harry. It was indeed the broom that Harry's father had given him for Christmas.

Harry's mom came closer to him, presenting him with some Quidditch gear.

"Those are your father's," she said as he was putting on the gloves. They fitted him perfectly.

"Do you have a broom for me?" Ginny asked, looking shyly at Harry's parents.

It was the cue that Audrey Larochelle was waiting for to step forward.

"'Ere, take zis," she said, holding out a Nimbus Two Thousand. "I can't play in zis dress," she quickly explained. She was wearing a rather short off-white dress and high heals.

"Shall we?" said Sirius, clapping Harry on the back.

The whole group started to make its way towards the Quidditch pitch. Several students noticed that something entertaining was about to happen and the word was very speedily spread out to the rest of the school. The seats were half filled when Harry and the rest of the people with him walked into the stadium.

His father divided the group into two teams and named them. Harry was the Seeker for the 'Lightening Bolts' and Krum was Seeker for the 'Phoenixes'. Harry's parents were Chasers on his team and the trio was completed by Ginny. Ron was Keeper on Harry's team as well. Hermione was to be the referee.

"Are you really good?" Krum asked to Harry's ears.

"You'll see," Harry replied furtively.

On Hermione's signal, they all kicked the ground and zoomed into the air. As always, Harry took a moment to fully appreciate the freedom of flying. He then followed Krum high above the other players, but not before throwing a loving glance at Ginny who answered him with a wonderful smile.

Hermione blew the whistle and the Snitch was released. The older and more experienced players made it the fastest game of Quidditch that Harry had ever participated in. Because it was a friendly match, there was also a great deal of joking around. Hermione almost lost her temper when Fred and George directed various hexes at Sirius, causing the tail of his broomstick to catch fire.

"_Aqua Erupto_!" said Harry's mom as she was flying pass Sirius. The fire was instantly put out, but she made a point of making sure that Sirius was more than a little wet.

"Can we have a clean game, please?" Hermione was shouting below.

A moment later, the Quaffle was flying in Harry's direction. He caught it and threw it instantly at Ginny, but Krum, it seemed, had spotted the Snitch in the meantime. Harry soared into the air after him, tailing him as best as he could. He kept reminding himself that Krum was the best Seeker in the world, but still he was catching up fast with the Bulgarian. They were very high into the blue sky when Krum suddenly wheeled downwards into a vertical dive.

"He hasn't seen the Snitch," thought Harry. "It's the Wronski Feint."

Harry dived in after him. They were side by side. Krum looked almost surprised that Harry could keep up with him. He pulled up just in time to avoid hitting the ground. Harry did the same. Krum winked at him and soared high into the sky again, searching for the tiny Snitch.

"You're more than just good," said Harry's dad, pulling his broom to a stop at Harry's side.

"I made the Gryffindor team in my first year," said Harry, blushing. "It's a family trait."

As he said this, his mother zoomed around them. She was very wet but she didn't seem to care.

"What are you two doing? We're loosing seventy to sixty, boys," she said joyfully. "Harry, you had better catch that Snitch before Krum does."

And she was off again. Ginny had the Quaffle and was flying straight at the opposing goalposts.

"Well, you heard your mother," said Harry's dad, pulling his broomstick upwards as well.

Harry wheeled around and soared into the sky again. Krum was circling on the outskirt of the pitch. Harry was about to set out after Krum when something caught his eyes. High above his head, a long, white, undulating figure was also surveying the pitch.

Harry threw one last look at the game below him. Ginny had scored and Harry's parents were now chasing the Quaffle and trying to take it back fro Sirius. Fred and George were aiming to send a Bludger at Ron.

Harry looked up again. "Leo is waiting for me," he thought. "It's time."

Then, pulling the broomstick upwards again, he soared higher and higher, until the players in the pitch below were blurry scarlet outlines.

The dragon was waiting for him. Harry pulled his broom on top of Leo and let himself drop onto the creature's back. When he released the broomstick, it went zooming freely unto the horizon and Harry lost sight of it.

"Where are we going," he asked Leo.

"I cannot tell you," said the dragon, "because I do not know."

Harry glanced at the ground for the last time.

"Will I see them again?" he enquired.

A tear drop fell on his hand. He rapidly wiped it clean with his sleeve.

"In dreams, perhaps," was the dragon's reply. "In dreams."

The End

_Author's note:_

_It's my first completed fanfic. Yeah ! I wanted to leave the ending opened. If anyone wants to pick up on it, feel free, but don't forget to give credit. _

_I love reviews. I'm opened to any comments. Drop me a note. It's always much appreciated._

_Now get outside and enjoy the summer._

_HighEmpress_

_June 16th, 2006. Québec, Canada. _


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